


Symbiosis

by lifeaftermeteor



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Amnesia, Battle Couple, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Series, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Preventers, reference to past suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 17:53:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7693858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeaftermeteor/pseuds/lifeaftermeteor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AC 205.  March.  In the clutches of a horrific day, Wufei Chang is introduced to a rookie agent who will be his new charge - Heero Yuy, who has been recently transferred off of Preventer's Cyber Crimes division and into the field.  The two ease into an uncertain comradery at first; but when pressure mounts, the two of them share an impressive, nigh-unstoppable battlefield symbiosis that makes them a force of nature.  This meeting of the subconscious minds brings with it needs and desires buried for far too long.  Perhaps now, years and distance between the present and their ghosts, they can both seek release and solace in one another.  Perhaps...until shoddy intel results in a raid gone bad and puts Wufei in the hospital.  When he wakes, the two of them will face perhaps the most difficult challenge to date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Opening Salvo

**Author's Note:**

> Sincerest thanks go out to [petulantquat](http://petulantquat.tumblr.com/) who took on the sizeable duty of beta’ing the fic (on an advanced timeline no less). This story is so much richer and better because of your hard work, deary. Kindest thanks and much love for the help and support!!!

Wufei had a thing for remembering dates.  They were engraved on his brain and rendered the past in vivid detail, marking the passage of time like grooves in a record book.  His father had died on 22 September 187.  Meiran had been killed on 1 April 194.  He’d fallen to Earth as one of five shooting stars a year later on 6 April 195.  He’d officially joined the Preventers on 12 January 197.  The list went on and on, each one another marker as life ticked on around him.

11 March 205 was quickly becoming a date that would be filed away in the darkest corners of his mind, best forgotten. 

He’d slept through his alarm – which he _never_ did – after being plagued by insomnia throughout the preceding nights.  He’d missed his train, which meant he’d missed the office’s morning meeting with his team, for which he’d had to apologize for his tardiness to his team lead, Victor Mendez, a middle-aged former Alliance type who had an inherent distrust of anyone under thirty.

When Wufei finally made it to his cubicle, his computer decided to give up the ghost upon start up, the blank screen accompanied with a horrifying high-pitched whine.  He was subsequently relegated to a vacant corner of the bullpen while IT came to investigate, the tech making no attempt to hide his conviction that Wufei had killed the machine intentionally just to spite him.  The email from Sally Po that appeared at the top of his inbox – once he got the damn thing open – informing him that he’d been tapped to onboard their new agent resulted in his searching the cubicle for something easily combustible in order to set the whole damn floor on fire. 

With thoughts of arson swirling in his brain, he marched into the Branch Chief’s office and slammed the door shut behind him. “I don’t take rookies,” he told her, grinding the words out between clenched teeth.

Sally glanced up from her work, her gray eyes laughing as they always were.  “Everyone takes turns onboarding, Wufei.”

“No.  Not everyone.  _I_ don’t.” 

“And why should you be the exception to the rule?”

“You know why.”  In the heavy pause that followed, Sally seemed to consider this and he watched her eyes drift to his left shoulder.  Under the collared shirt stood the evidence of the sleeper agent they’d all missed, burns – long since healed – sustained from being too close to a car bomb when it went off.

At last, Sally left her chair and moved to stand before him, her face calm and her eyes level with his own when she spoke next.  “We’re short-staffed as it is, and you’re one of my best.  I wouldn’t have chosen you to do this if it had been just anyone.  But this is an exceptional case.” She paused and then added, teasing, “You’ll like him.”

“Sally—”

She held up a hand, killing any further protest.  “He’s already here, and I’ve paired him with you.  End of discussion.  He’s in the conference room.  Go get acquainted.”  She smirked at him before turning her back on him as she strode back to her desk, conversation clearly over.

Wufei swallowed the cry of frustration that clawed at his throat.  Turning on his heel, he left Sally’s office, shutting the door none too gently behind him as he went.  He marched his way through the branch office, weaving between cubicles and dodging agents as they darted out of his way to deal with from one bureaucratically manufactured crisis to another.  Reaching the conference room on the other side of the elevator bank, he threw open the door. 

And that was when his morning from Hell went from bad to worse.

He glanced over his shoulder and down the hall, hoping for one last ‘gotcha’ that didn’t come, and – resigned – turned back to who he had found inside.  His brain still short-circuiting, he could only manage, “You.”

Heero Yuy gave a sidelong glance to the otherwise empty room before he helpfully agreed, “Me.”

Wufei shook off his initial shock and demanded, “Since when are you a rookie agent?”

Heero’s face was unreadable.  He tilted his head to the side, his clear blue eyes boring holes into Wufei from across the room. “Are you always this brusque with new teammates?”

“I don’t usually deal with new teammates,” Wufei admitted, feeling anger twisting in his belly anew.

“So what did you do to get this detail?”

The tone of the question was light, curious; but Wufei thought he detected just the barest hints of laughter beneath the words.  He didn’t like it.  “I’m asking myself the same thing,” he managed between clenched teeth.

They watched each other, tension rife in the silence that stretched between them until, to Wufei’s unbridled surprise, Heero broke eye contact first, his gaze dropping to the floor.  “I can come back tomorrow, if that would be better.”

The offer was tempting.  Wufei closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.  Taking a deep breath, centering himself and pushing the awful start to his morning out of his mind, he said, “No.  Let’s get you processed.”  Dropping his hand to his side, he opened his eyes once more to find Heero still uncharacteristically unsure.  Taking half a step back across the threshold, he urged, “Come on.  Your computer won’t be up till tomorrow at the earliest, but we should be able to get everything else done.”

+++++

It had been nearly a decade since Wufei had last laid eyes on the man called Heero Yuy.  Not since that Christmas when they had been on opposing sides of the battle, when he had all but demanded Heero kill him in combat.

Heero hadn’t of course.  No, Heero had filled their radio frequency with words that had made it painfully clear to him at the time that the other youth had moved on, had abandoned that part of himself that was known only as Pilot Zero One.  The realization had only fueled Wufei’s aimless rage.  It was not until Heero shared a glimpse of his own demons that Wufei hesitated.   As he had watched Wing Zero sink beneath the icy waves of the North Sea from Altron’s cockpit, Wufei had considered that perhaps he wasn’t as alone in this struggle as he had originally believed.

Now, ten years on, he hovered in the hall of a Preventers branch office – one like hundreds of others around the Earth Sphere – waiting for their Chief Security Officer to finish reading Heero onto whatever clearances and reporting procedures would be required on the job.  He took the few minutes of privacy to think about this strange turn of events the morning had taken.  Heero had reappeared from wherever he had come, emerging from their shared pasts a different person.  The man stood taller than him now, his shoulders broader than Wufei remembered; but then he supposed it would have naturally been the case.  He too had outgrown his teenaged frame years ago.  He almost laughed aloud then at the thought of Heero Yuy struggling through the throes of puberty.  His own had been painfully awkward, and he drew comfort from the idea that he hadn’t suffered the process alone.

When the other man finally emerged into the hallway, Wufei prompted, “Well?”

Heero shrugged, an uncharacteristically casual gesture that set Wufei off-balance with its fluidity.  “I’m now fully authorized to work on your team.”

“Good,” Wufei acknowledged, leading them back down the hall toward the elevators.

Heero fell into step beside him.  “Where next?”

“Back to the office,” he answered.  “That was the last of it.”

Despite the silence that met his answer, Wufei could feel something like disappointment emanating from the newly minted Preventers field agent.  Biting the inside of his cheek, he hesitated by the elevators and asked, “What? Did you want a personalized tour?”

“No,” Heero answered, his voice regaining an evenness with which Wufei was more familiar.  “But I would appreciate some directions to the mess.”

This drew Wufei up short.  He glanced at his watch and found it was well on its way to four in the afternoon.  A wave of sudden guilt rolled over him and he jammed the ‘down’ button with his thumb to call an elevator car.   “Never eat at the mess if you can avoid it,” he told him.  “I know a place.  I’ll buy – and don’t argue with me.”

Chancing a glance in Heero’s direction, he found the other man’s face betraying his surprise.  Wufei wondered when in the last decade he’d become so expressive.  He pushed the thought away but added, gentler, “It’s the least I could do.  Relocating is expensive, even when you travel light.” The justification sounded weak to his ears and he wondered if Heero thought so too.

From the corner of his eye, he watched an untold variety of emotions flash behind the other man’s eyes before they finally settled on sheepish gratitude.  “Thank you,” he murmured.  The elevator ‘dinged’ and the doors slid aside to reveal an empty car.  They stepped inside and spent the ride to the ground level in a silence that was almost – almost – amicable.

Wufei led them off the Preventers’ branch campus to a small café several blocks away, the owner waving at them upon their arrival.  They grabbed a table off in a quiet corner away from prying eyes, but were soon joined by a member of the wait staff who looked a bit as if he was coming to the end of his shift.  He held his pen poised at the ready over a well-worn notepad.  Wufei decided quickly enough; Heero perused the menu for a moment before making a determination.  The waiter jotted their orders and darted away, disappearing into the kitchens to construct a pair of salads.

Left alone together once more, Wufei could bite his tongue no longer.

“Why are you here?” he inquired, blunt.

“I was transferred,” came the dry response.

“Don’t be glib,” Wufei shot back and watched the corner of Heero’s mouth twitch, almost as if he was hiding a smile.  He pressed ahead.  “Why are you _here_?” he asked again, rapping his knuckles on the table for emphasis.  “How long have you been with Preventers, and why didn’t I hear about it?”

Heero took a deep breath and exhaled it in a long, controlled sigh.  “I joined Preventers three years ago.  They put me in the Cyber Crimes Division.”

“How’d you manage that?  I can’t imagine Director Une was keen on you being sequestered to the shadowy rooms of reformed Black Hats.”  In his own case, Une had been more than happy to pair him off with Sally – closer to the action the better, it had seemed to Wufei. 

“Well…she didn’t know about it, when I joined.  I waited until she went on leave to start the process.”

“Clever,” Wufei conceded with a smirk.

Heero shrugged, again that oddly comfortable gesture.  “As part of my interview, I told the vetting panel how to re-stabilize a colony after a manufactured, orbital compromise.  They hired me on the spot.”

“So why the change of specialization now?”

Heero’s demeanor cooled at the question.  “‘Personality conflicts.’” He said, the words short and clipped.

Undeterred by Heero’s apparent dislike of the direction their conversation had taken, Wufei pressed on. “What happened?”

“Nothing, for a long time.  But then we got a new division chief.” Heero paused and seemed to deflate under Wufei’s gaze as he leaned back into his seat, seeming to give up the fight.  “He didn’t like me much.  He…recognized me.”  He worried at his lower lip before continuing, “He didn’t say anything to the teams but they knew I’d been blacklisted by management for _some_ reason.  So.  I didn’t see any harm…”

Wufei waited for Heero to continue but was forced to prompt him.  “Harm in what?”

Heero raised his eyes and answered, “Breaking the rules.”

“Explain.”

Heero took another deep breath before speaking, and Wufei wondered if he was gathering his thoughts or calming his nerves.  “Preventers guidelines dictate that intrusions are done quietly.  The target can’t know they’re a target.  Practically speaking it’s so they can’t secure their insecurities and prevent you from catching them doing something nefarious.  There’s also the risk that they’ll counter-attack, or serve you a ‘cease and desist’ court order since they’ll have ESUN cyber law on their side.

“We had been investigating a company of interest for weeks but had been unable to break into their network.  Their infrastructure was highly sophisticated, very professional.  No matter how much probing the team did, we couldn’t find a soft spot to slip through undetected.”

Dread had mounted in Wufei’s stomach as Heero spoke.  Finally, he asked, “What did you do, Heero?”

The man across from him opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated as their waiter returned to the table to deposit their orders, plates overflowing with what Wufei could only assume was the wealth of greenery that remained in the kitchen for the taking before the dinner rush.  The man paused to refill their glasses of water before disappearing from the floor once more.

“Digitally speaking, I ripped open a hole the size of a soccer field,” he said, his tone casual and indifferent as he picked up his fork and prodded at the greens on his plate.  “It worked, for what it’s worth,” he continued.  “While the target was fighting the attack, the team slipped in quietly amidst the chaos.  But my division chief was… _displeased_.”

“I can imagine,” Wufei confided.  “You’re lucky they didn’t fire you.  Or arrest you.”

“They almost did, on both counts.  Une intervened.  She said it would have been a ‘terrible waste of talent.’”

“That alone should be illegal,” Wufei mused, unsurprised by Une’s meddling.

Heero seemed to concede the point with a nod of his head.  “Une saw an opportunity to relieve a division of a troublesome employee and keep me on the books on her terms.  I’m sure they sent memos in triplicate to all of the members of the ESUN’s Preventers Oversight Committee regarding why the breach of protocol was the wrong decision for the right reasons.  This field assignment is probation.”

As silence settled in between them, Wufei let the minutes tick by.  He found it oddly comforting to find that Heero’s subversive streak had not subsided with time.  Wufei had struggled through his early years in the organization as well, unaccustomed to its strict protocol and rigid ethical code.  He had only survived the transition thanks to Sally. 

The thought of his mentor turned his attention to the branch – _her_ branch, truth be told.  Sally held the team together with shrewd analysis, honest guidance, and often times by sheer force of her will alone.  He wondered whether the force of nature in the guise of the man across the table from him would change the dynamic.  He absentmindedly pushed greens around on his plate, not much interested in eating.  “Why did you avoid the field in the first place?” he asked.

Heero was quiet for a time, carefully considering his response.  Without meeting Wufei’s eyes, he simply answered, “I have my reasons.”

+++++

A month later found Heero fully integrated into the field team, lock-step with Wufei, the two of them neck-deep in an investigation into an arms trafficking ring.  As the days ticked by, they drew ever closer to their near-term target – a small cell, one which was a key piece of the architecture.  If they could take it out (and better yet, make some arrests) they could maybe twist some much needed information out of their detainees.

Wufei had spent much of the time watching his partner and taking mental note of the subtle changes in his demeanor as the execution date approached.  He’d come to know Heero as a highly efficient and effective agent, though he had expected as much of the former Gundam Pilot Zero One.  He had not expected the dry humor that came with him; nor the feeling of loss as it slipped away, overrun by the familiar pressure of the mission.

The mission, the mission, the mission.

Wufei’s thoughts snapped back to the present where they were hunkered down behind makeshift barriers in an empty office building, their targets holed up inside the equally non-descript twin that loomed before them across the blocked off street below.  Local law enforcement’s sting had failed and now here they were, trapped in a stalemate several stories up while Preventers marksmen held their positions on the roof above.  Wufei suspected someone had tipped the cell off, though he pushed the thought aside and out of his mind.  This wasn’t the time to be weighed down by conspiracy theories, not when his body armor was doing such a fine job of it.  His shoulders ached from the added burden.

Across the street, their targets had managed to capture a few of the building’s occupants as hostages before barricading themselves inside – human bargaining chips for desperate men.  Their lead negotiator was still on the phone with some faceless representative, doing his best to keep everyone level-headed and on the track to a peaceful resolution.

But then a rain of bullets ripped through the building, glass shattering around them.  Apparently negotiations had broken down.  Wufei cursed and shielded himself as best he could from the onslaught behind a desk, waiting for a pause in the onslaught to return fire, his gun starting a well-practiced call and response with colleagues further down the line.

Next to him, Heero ejected a spent magazine before quickly slapping its replacement back into his rifle. 

“Any bright ideas?” Wufei asked, ducking back down to reload his own weapon.

“They’re firing from the fourth floor.  Angle’s bad for the guys above us and they know it,” Heero informed him, exuding an unsettling absolute calm.  “If we can get in, it’ll be a fair fight.”

“I’m more interested in the _how_ we get in.”

Heero considered this, threw a glance over his shoulder toward the building, and finally met Wufei’s gaze.  “How fast can you run?” 

Wufei watched Heero flip the setting for his rifle to semi-automatic and he smiled.  Turning to his left, he called over to a cluster of their teammates, “Wek, Baruti, Samson, you’re coming with us.”

“Alright, it’s _INFIL_ time!” one of the agents crowed as the lot of them bolted from their cover for the emergency exit.

The access stairwell deposited them around the corner of the office building, the sound of gunfire echoing around them reverberating over corridors of glass and steel.  Weapons at the ready, they approached the street that separated them from their targets.  They waited for an opening, a lull in the fire from the assailants across the street…and bolted.

The sounds of battle felt miles away as he ran, Wufei’s only focus the pounding in his ears and the building’s large glass doors that came into view up ahead.  He took aim with his sidearm and shot out the glass of the doors as they approached, the group of agents bounding over the shards that crunched underfoot as they ran through the lobby.

Now would begin the hard part, Wufei knew.  With their targets preoccupied with the fire fight that raged on outside and overhead, the small team was met with little resistance as they moved through the lobby and up an emergency access stairwell in the distant corner.  Floor by floor they moved, sweeping each doorway as they reached it before continuing onward and upward.  It gave Wufei a sinking feeling in his belly.  _Last stand_ , he thought even as an agent behind him scoffed, “Amateurs.”

At last they burst out of the stairwell and onto the fourth floor, firearms sweeping the floor and its startled occupants.  “Drop your weapons!” the agent to Wufei’s left shouted at the assailants while hostages huddled terrified in the corner.  Faced with overwhelming odds, the armed men dropped their weapons and raised their hands above their head, some of them kneeling where they stood. 

 _Wrong_ , Wufei thought, his suspicion piqued.  Something was off, a feeling he couldn’t shake as the rest of the team moved forward to start their arrests. 

Sometimes he really hated being right.

As the agents approached, two of the gunmen pulled back their jackets to reveal rows and rows of explosives.  The hostages screamed.  The agents cursed.  The men moved to press the trigger they clutched in their vindictive fists—

Two shots rang out in quick succession.  Wufei watched as both men’s heads snapped backwards, blood and brain matter exploding behind them in a red mist that turned his stomach.

In the stunned silence that followed, Wufei turned to find Heero standing beside him, his handgun still trained on the room before them.  When Heero spoke, his voice was deadly calm.  “Dying is rather unpleasant in my experience.  But it’s your call.”

After a breathless moment, the remaining gunmen surrendered promptly, lying face down on the floor with their hands in plain sight.  Once the agents secured their targets in Preventers’ custody and gathered the hostages in a frightened cluster, they marched the everyone out of the building. 

Ground-level once more, Wufei finally noticed the looks the other agents sent their way.  They were leery about this newcomer, inherently distrustful of anyone who could kill so efficiently without so much as a second thought.  One colleague went so far as to dart out of their way as Heero and Wufei walked back toward the Preventers’ tactical transport. 

“I don’t think they expected a battle-hardened field agent to come out of the cyber office,” Wufei told Heero as they approached the light-armored vehicle.

“They may as well know that we’re full of surprises,” the other man answered, closing his eyes to the commotion around them and rolling his neck on his shoulders. 

Wufei could hear the bones cracking from where he stood and he winced.  “First raid out of the gate and you probably already landed yourself a suspension,” he told him.  “Defensive action only, remember?”

“I’d rather take my chances with the board of inquiry than 40 kg of explosives.”

Wufei smirked and in a rare public display of appreciation, patted the other man on the shoulder.  “Me too,” he assured.

Apparently this sentiment was shared by Victor Mendez who observed, “Chang, Yuy…good work today,” as he passed them by on the way to a separate staff van.

Wufei cast a sidelong glance at Heero and found he had to agree.  The other man, however, was lost in thought, his gaze inward and downcast as he secured his weapon and stepped up into the armored transport bound for headquarters with the rest of their unit.

+++++

Back in the surreal security of the branch office, the two of them were still coming down off of the adrenaline high even as they were wrapped in the altered reality of office supplies and conference rooms.  The debrief itself had ended moments before and Heero had deftly escaped a suspension. 

“What are you doing tonight?”

The question drew Wufei up short and he stepped off to the side of the hall, Heero following him as foot traffic passed by them.  He watched Heero watch him for a moment but when the other man’s gaze refused to give up its secrets, he asked, “Why?”

“Just asking.”

Wufei quirked a brow at the answer, unable to fight the smirk that pulled at his lips.  He’d grown accustomed to Heero’s tendency to avoid answering direct questions as they’d worked the case over the course of the last few months.  He had begun to suspect a certain L2 anarchist had something to do with that.  “Once the paperwork is done, I have an eventful evening of paying my bills before my utilities are shut off, followed by my best attempt to sleep the duration of the weekend.”  Heero’s steady gaze faltered and so Wufei asked a second time, “Why?”

“Nothing. I just…no, it’s fine.  It’ll be fine,” Heero muttered more to himself than his teammate, his eyes focused elsewhere over Wufei’s shoulder.

Concern pricked at the back of Wufei’s neck at this.  “Heero?” he asked, his hand reaching out to touch the other man, but thought better of it moments before contact.

Taking a deep breath, Heero seemed to return to himself and said, “Forget it.  Forget I said anything.”  He said and turned away, quickly putting distance between them, leaving Wufei feeling off-kilter and uncertain as he stared at his colleague’s retreating back.

+++++

Wufei spent the evening in his apartment trying to put Heero’s unusual behavior out of his mind, but it seemed it was an exercise in futility.  His traitorous brain kept bringing images unbidden to his mind’s eye of those blue eyes on him, speaking volumes without words, hopeful and uncertain.  It stirred something in him he’d tried for years to kill.  He reached for his left shoulder, gripping the damaged flesh with bruising force. 

He had let his guard down before, years ago.  Trusting another agent with his life and more.  The miscalculation had left him scarred and had racked up a formidable body count of innocent bystanders.  Never again.  He clenched his teeth and growled, shoving all of those dangerous thoughts of vulnerability from his mind. 

He made a beeline for the bathroom, intent on taking a very hot shower in the hopes that the water would wash his frazzled mind clean.  He’d almost reached his goal when his phone rang.  Wufei sighed and marched back to his room to snatch the device from his desk.  He expected Sally or maybe Mendez when he answered, anything but what greeted his frustrated, “Hello?”

“I’m sorry, I…I thought I’d be okay, but…but I…”

The flurry of words was followed by what felt like a horrifically long pause.  His hair standing on edge and goosebumps rising on his arms, Wufei asked, “Heero?”

There was a shuddering breath on the line and then Heero’s voice came through, sounding tight, forced. “I don’t think I should be alone right now.”  He paused and tried again, hesitant, “Can…can you…?”

“Of course,” Wufei replied without second thought.  “Where are you?”  Heero relayed his address across town and Wufei assured him he would be there as soon as possible.  Ending the call, he darted about his apartment to grab the necessities – badge, gun, phone, keys – before shoving his feet into a pair of worn trainers that lay by the door and bolting from the apartment, pausing only to lock the door behind him.

Only after he was in a cab en route did he wonder whether he should have kept Heero talking.  He withdrew the phone from his pocket and pulled up the number, letting the device redial.  Heero didn’t answer.  Wufei cursed under his breath and leaned forward to offer a faster route to his driver, hoping his tone imparted the necessary urgency.

The fifteen-minute drive to Heero’s address felt like an eternity.  His cab driver dropped him at the front door and Wufei deftly followed another resident into the building, walking past the oblivious concierge to the bank of elevators in the lobby.  He jabbed his thumb against the buttons and ascended to the 10th floor, counting each story has he past.  Upon arrival, he veered left down a hall and knocked on a non-descript door about half-way down.

A haggard Heero Yuy answered looking as if he was seconds from jumping out of his own skin if given half the chance.  “Thank you for coming,” he murmured, sounding apologetic as he stepped aside for Wufei to enter.  He quickly shut the door behind him once they were both safely inside, rolling over the deadbolt with decisive force.

“Heero, what’s going on?”

The other man hesitated a moment before gesturing further into the apartment, slipping past him in the narrow foyer.  Heero crossed to a small couch and sat down but as soon as Wufei joined him there, he sprung to his feet again and began to pace the apartment, his arms folded tightly across his ribcage, his hands hooked around opposite elbows.

Wufei stayed seated and took the time allotted by Heero’s laps to survey the apartment.  Small but open, the studio was clean and uncluttered, but here and there were signs of life.  A discarded coffee cup, a jacket draped over the back of a chair, a window at the other side of the room that stood open onto what looked like a false balcony, and a small wildflower sitting in a shot glass of water.  This last had him curious, but before he could comment on it, Wufei realized Heero had stilled.

Turning his attention back to the other man, he found him standing silently at the open window, staring out into the approaching night, the only sound that of the city drifting up to them from below.  Wufei observed the other man while questions roiled in his mind but he sat quiet and still, content to wait out Heero’s silence.

His patience was rewarded finally when Heero murmured, “You asked me why I didn’t want to be in the field.  It’s because I have these…episodes.  Not all the time, but…often enough.  They get bad when things get violent.”  He paused for a moment, his gaze still locked on the distant horizon.  “They’re easier to manage when I can disassociate, when it’s numbers and money and digital vulnerabilities.  Not so much when bullets are involved.”

“‘Episodes.’” Wufei rolled the word around in his mouth; it tasted bitter.  “Do they know?”

“Which ‘they?’” Heero asked, glancing over at him before his eyes gravitated back out the open balcony window.  “Sally, Une…the Preventers’ on-call psychologist.  They do.  Doesn’t matter.”

“Why don’t you get exempted?” Wufei asked, feeling suddenly irate.  “They can’t force you to into the field if you’re unfit to do so.  Une isn’t _that_ powerful.”

“‘Unfit’ is an interesting word choice.  Tell me Wufei – before tonight, would you have considered me even remotely ‘unfit’ to complete any task they set before me?”

Wufei faltered at this and had to admit, “No.”

Heero shook his head.  “It’s never the execution, never in in the field.  It’s the coming down afterward, alone.  I can always feel it coming.  Like a rogue wave – they’re out there, waiting on just the right circumstances to show themselves.”

Wufei considered this and thought of his own struggles early on.  He came to realize that even after he had detonated Altron, he had never let go of the fight, not really.  That had been his shield.  But he’d _wanted_ the fight, wanted to continue this battle to bring justice and logic back to a world plagued by a distinct lack of both. 

At last Wufei stood and crossed the room to stand beside the other man, looking down out over the city below.  From this high up, it almost seemed peaceful, the street lights mirroring the stars above. 

“Are you haunted, Wufei?” came the question from the other man.  He sounded like he was drifting a thousand miles away.  “What do your ghosts look like?”

There was a flash of red water and the feeling of rough hands pulling him up into cold air, the smell of smoke and angry dark eyes, yellow flowers, the whine of hydraulics.  “They don’t let me sleep,” Wufei heard himself admit.

“I suppose they get lonely, the greater the distance time puts between us and them,” Heero mused.

Wufei considered this, his eyes studying the other man’s profile, the tense set of his shoulders.  He watched Heero reach out with unsteady hands and clutch the green window shutter which stood open out onto the false balcony.  He slipped his fingertips between the angled slats, as if he was looking for an anchor.

“We should close the window,” Heero mumbled, pulling away to walk towards the bed in the distant corner.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to jump out of it.”

+++++

Wufei had spent the night on the couch, though had only succeeded in managing a few hours of fitful sleep.  Twice he had woken up to Heero talking as he dreamed and had been startled to hear Russian tumbling from the other man’s lips as he slept.  A gentle hand had been enough to still Heero’s tossing, but the experience had left Wufei unsettled.

He eventually pulled himself up and off the couch as the soft light of morning filtered through the window blinds, painting the apartment in wide bands of gold and shadow.  He ducked into the bathroom and winced at the rough-edged face that peered back at him bleary-eyed in the mirror. 

Disheveled and exhausted, Wufei did his best to make himself presentable.  Fleeing the bathroom, he moved to the kitchen and set about making a rather strong pot of coffee for him and Heero both, hoping the ambient noise would rouse the other man.  Wufei was in luck it seemed.  From around the corner, he heard Heero moving about the apartment, the bathroom door opening and closing again.

When Heero emerged, Wufei had already taken a seat at the small kitchen table with his coffee.  He flipped through the day’s news on his phone until Heero took the seat opposite him, a steaming cup of caffeine before him.

“Thank you,” Heero said. “I’m sorry I pulled you into this.”

“You’re my partner,” Wufei reminded him. “We’re supposed to watch out for each other. On or off the clock.”

Heero nodded, acquiescing this point.  But then, with eyes averted, he said, “I’d…appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone.”

Wufei watched him, letting the silence stretch between them.  The vulnerable man he’d seen last night, echoes of a haunted boy who loathed his abilities, was disappearing behind carefully constructed walls once more.  Wufei observed the evolution with some admiration and wished he could learn to keep his own tumultuous emotions under such rigid control.  Something told him, however, that it was survival instinct that built those walls.

Eventually, he said, “Who would I tell?” The question was rhetorical, dismissive.  “Sally?  She already knows.  The team?  They don’t deserve to have that kind of leverage over you.”  Heero eyed him, clearly dubious.  It ruffled his feathers.  “You don’t believe me.”

The muscles in Heero’s jaw twitched.  “I _trust_ you just fine,” he assured, “but leverage is leverage.  And I’ve…been burned before.”

Wufei quirked an eyebrow that that.  He found it difficult to believe that anyone could get away with crossing Heero Yuy, but he let the comment slide.  Instead, he asked, “How about a fair trade then?”

The question seemed to puzzle Heero who regarded him with piqued interested, his head tilting off to the side in silent query.

Inwardly pleased to provide a distraction, Wufei leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table as he undid the buttons at his shirt cuffs and rolled up his sleeves to reveal a familiar set of black bindings.  As he spoke, he began to unwind them.  “I wrapped my wrists when I was younger because the compression helped stabilize them.  I’d fallen off a roof as a kid.  Slipped on a loose tile and ended up breaking both of them.”

“What were you doing on the roof?”

“It was the only place I could read in peace,” Wufei answered simply and caught the hints of a smile on Heero’s lips when he chanced a glance at the other man.  “That’s the story the team knows.  But it’s not why I wrap them now.  This is,” he concluded, flipping his arms over to reveal the twin scars that stretched halfway up to his elbows.

“When?” Heero asked, his eyes betraying his surprise even if his voice did not.

“196.  After the war, but before Dekim got his claws into me.”

This was followed by a hesitant, almost pained, “Why?”

Wufei bent his wrists backward, watching the tendons and muscles flex under tanned skin.  “Because I was angry, and tired, and lost. But mostly I think I was just…lonely.” Wufei swallowed around the sudden tightness in his throat.  He hadn’t talked about that day in a long time.  “I lived above an herbalist at the time.  His son later told me that the old man had gotten a bad feeling and sent him to come check on me.  They’re the only reason I’m alive now.”

Heero reached out then, his fingertips grazing the pale scar tissue with startling tenderness.  The touch set Wufei’s nerves arcing in unhelpful ways, but he fought the urge to withdraw and allowed the inspection to continue.  “I’m glad you’re alright,” Heero murmured at last as he pulled away.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Wufei answered, turning the conversation back on the other man.

Heero winced and shook his head.  “I’m still fighting my battles.”

“So am I,” Wufei told him.  The admission gave Heero pause and his blue eyes finally rose to meet Wufei’s gaze head-on.  “It never goes away, Heero,” he continued, taking the black bands in hand and beginning to rewrap his arms with practiced ease.  “You just get better at dealing with it.”

He watched Heero’s gaze turn inward at this, cataloguing the new information while Wufei finished binding his wrists, the scars disappearing once more.  Seeking to draw Heero’s attention, he asked, “Are you going to be okay?”

Heero blinked at him from across the table, seeming to shake himself from his thoughts, and nodded.

“Alright.  I’ll show myself out,” he said, standing once his wrists were covered and sleeves buttoned once more.  Heero’s eyes followed his movements, his face guarded again.  “I’ll see you on Monday?” Wufei asked.  The other man considered this before finally nodding.  It was sufficient.  Wufei nodded back in acknowledgement, unable to resist urging, “Get some rest,” as he walked out of the apartment.


	2. Objectivity

A year.

A year of paper pushing, fire fights, and nights – often sleepless – spent in his partner’s apartment.  A year of countless arrests, innumerable briefings, and the slow unlearning of the man who was Heero Yuy.  Wufei’s mental image of the boy who was Pilot Zero One was slowly replaced with this new creature who preferred tea with honey over coffee, who habitually skipped breakfast so he could sleep longer, who challenged Wufei’s assumptions about the way of the world, who still fought his demons after the sound of gunfire had long since echoed into the past. 

The Zero One of memory had been replaced by a better model – one whose gentle, stalwart presence and occasional rebellion made the daily grind bearable.  Wufei had come to find he slept far better now that he knew Heero would be in the office ready to face whatever new hell had landed on their desks. 

Most days this was the case, at least.  Other days...other days Wufei found new meditative exercises to avoid staring at the man’s perfect ass.  The tailored suits would be the death of him he had decided long ago, after one too many nighttime fantasies had taken hold.

Wufei had never gone out of his way to hide his orientation from Heero or anyone else for that matter; but he’d be damned if he let the other man know how mesmerizing the expanse of his shoulders or the curve of his collarbone was.

Wufei knew he needed to kill these traitorous thoughts, cut them from the vine before he betrayed himself.  Heero was his partner and – more importantly – had become his friend.  Wufei had lost count of how often they were the first into the fray.  They were a frighteningly effective team, moving with flawless precision.  But more than that, Heero was the only other person in whom he could confide his darkest thoughts. 

He wouldn’t jeopardize that, nor would he risk losing the other man’s trust and confidence.  He would remain objective.  He _had_ to remain objective.

 _Even if it kills me_ , he thought as Heero, his back to him, leaned over a teammate’s desk. 

+++++

They had found themselves in comfortable new patterns of proximity in the year that had followed Heero’s entering the field.  Wufei would go to Heero’s studio after the fire fights; Heero would come to Wufei’s apartment when the soul crushing nature of the bureaucracy became too much for either of them to handle.  And through this simple arrangement they had become one another’s safe havens from peacetime.  Wufei found he rather liked these times together, Heero’s nature serving as a balm to his vice-like grip on his own self-control, allowing him brief respites in exasperation and honesty. 

With Heero he felt…more content in his own skin.  The other man’s quiet patience and dry humor had chipped away at the barricades he had hid behind for years, until he realized too late that Heero was well passed his defenses. 

This night was no different than so many others.  They’d retreated to Wufei’s apartment after a rough week slogging through endless paperwork, not particularly keen on being alone quite yet.  Wufei himself was still agitated and so had promptly put additional space between himself and his partner, fleeing to the corner to watch the city lights come to life from his window.  Heero meanwhile had collapsed onto the couch, a quiet acknowledgement of the necessary distance.  Their conversation started light, as it always did…but an off-handed comment by Wufei about phantom pain was all the opening Heero needed.

“I never asked you,” Heero began, nodding at Wufei’s left side.  “What happened?”

“Rookie agent,” Wufei supplied, “who also happened to be one of the bad guys.  He got through the vetting process and was assigned to me.”  He slipped into the memories that bombarded him then, his words drying up in his mouth.  The kid had fooled everyone, including him…all the way up until those final, dreadful moments.  And even then, Wufei still had not been able to quite believe it.  To this day he couldn’t tell which had hurt more – the betrayal or the explosion.

“What happened?” Heero asked again, softer this time as if he were coaxing the words out of him.

Wufei again opted for brevity, fighting the rolling tide in his head.  “He blew up our jeep with the two of us still in it.  Killed a lot of people.  Almost killed me.”  He clenched his fists, keenly aware of the tightness of the scar tissue that spanned much of his left shoulder and arm.  “I don’t take rookies anymore.”

“You took me,” Heero reminded him.

Wufei turned to look back at the other man who sat curled up in the far corner of his couch, his feet and hands tucked out of sight as if he was trying to take up as little space as possible lest he be seen as an unwelcome burden.  Wufei found himself suddenly wishing that he could untwist Heero’s limbs and affix him more firmly in space and time.  “You’re an exception,” he muttered at last.

Heero’s eyes were steady and clear as he watched him.  There was no judgment there, no pity either.  Just honest, unbiased consideration.  Wufei buckled under the attention, turning away to look back out the window.  From behind, he heard Heero stand and close the distance between them with footsteps that whispered on the hardwood floor.  Wufei could have reached out to touch him but he didn’t dare. 

“You don’t let anyone get close, do you?” Heero asked him.

“I try not to.” The words sounded bitter even to his own ears.

“It’s exhausting, isn’t it?” Heero murmured.  “Keeping everyone outside of the kill zone day after day.  After a while…it gets harder to tell who you’re protecting – them or yourself.”

Wufei turned then to find Heero had joined his vigil over the city so far below.  The light coming from elsewhere in the apartment behind them had cast his face in shadow but Wufei knew the man would have schooled his features into something unreadable.  He wanted to tear down that wall so it had no hope of reconstruction, least of all around him.  “You let me in,” he heard himself say.

At his words, cracks formed in the mask of control and Heero’s lips turned upward in a ghost of a smile.  Keeping his eyes on the horizon, he said, “You’re an exception.”

Wufei flushed at his own words falling from the other man’s lips.  When Heero pulled his eyes from the skyline to meet his own, he felt exposed – those eyes saw too much.  But then Heero was leaning close and Wufei felt himself drawn in.

The kiss was gentle, testing the waters.  An uncertain exploration of boundaries crossed.  It made Wufei dizzy, his breath trapped in his lungs, as his brain struggled to catch up with reality. He let his thoughts stumble and fade away, focusing instead on the lightning strikes along his spine and the ache in his chest.  Kissing Heero shouldn’t have been such sweet agony, and yet, and yet…

Heero pulled away and the sudden distance threw ice on Wufei’s frayed nerves. They didn’t speak, only searched each other’s faces for answers to questions neither seemed brave enough to ask.  But then Heero withdrew and strode silently out of the apartment with unhurried steps.

Wufei stood by the window, alone in the suddenly too-quiet apartment, his heart pounding in his ears.  And then reason and logic returned.

“Dammit.”

+++++

Their investigation had hit a snag.  A rather large one, really.  Several suspects had turned up dead, their main target had vanished, and with him a rather large sum of capital that they had been using to track him. 

In short, the core of the network they’d been tracking for the better part of a year had bottomed out, leaving its cells around the world rudderless and confused. 

Their team – twelve agents in total – had crammed themselves into the main conference room to deliver the bad news to Branch Chief Sally Po.  Five agents, including their team lead Victor Mendez, joined Sally in seats at the table while the rest of them lined the walls.  At the far end of the room stood a dry erase board loaded down with evidence clippings, hand-drawn lines connecting people of interest, and someone had used a magnet to secure a series of financial reports at the board’s bottom corner.  Sally’s eyes never strayed from the evidence board as one of agents briefed her on the turn of events.

“We were getting too close,” Mendez reasoned as the briefing wrapped up.  Wufei thought he sounded appropriately perturbed.

“So he’s on the lam,” Sally agreed, her gray eyes darting between faces and satellite imagery print-outs.  “How do we find him if the money’s gone?”

A flurry of suggestions from the agents at the table.

“Keep eyes on his known relations and contacts—”

“Prod the global intelligence network, see if we can get satellite link-ups—”

Wufei shook his head from where he stood along the wall.  “We’re already doing the first and the second takes too damn long,” he countered both suggestions. 

“Perhaps, but it may be our best bet – patience,” said Mendez, his tone suggesting the attribute was sorely missing amongst some of those present.

“What about Starlink?” Heero suggested quietly from where he stood beside Wufei.  A roomful of eyes turned and landed on him.

“The asteroid mining company?” Wufei asked.

Sally smirked.  Something in her eyes sparked with an unspoken and shared understanding with Heero at his suggestion.  “What _about_ Starlink?”

“They’re competing with Winner Enterprises. Well, trying to,” Heero amended.  “They’re struggling.  We should get a look at their investor list and their current funding stream.  See if there’s any anomalies.”

“Struggling to compete with Winner Enterprises in the open market is hardly grounds for a condemnation, much less an investigation,” Mendez reminded them.

“Perhaps not,” Heero conceded, “but it certainly makes a sudden generous investment attractive.  And we know they’re dirty.”

“We do?” Mendez asked, pivoting his chair around to fully face his most junior agent.  His tone betrayed his disbelief and no small shred of irritation at being circumvented in front of his commanding officer.

Heero ignored the man and kept his eyes instead locked on Sally who broke the silence by supplying, “Starlink’s board has ties to the Sinaloa Cartel.  The mining venture is intended to cover the cost of on-going operations Earth-side.  Although it should be a lucrative business, the company’s profit margin is sliding.  The bottom line isn’t what it should be to keep things running elsewhere.”

“How can we know that with any amount of certainty?” Mendez countered. To Sally, he added, “Ma’am, I don’t recommend deciding on our next steps based on a hunch.”

“It’s not a hunch,” Heero told him.  “We know it because I blew holes in their network a little over a year ago.”

The man kept his voice level, but Wufei couldn’t help but notice the subtle tensing of shoulders, the way his jaw clenched as he spoke.  Heero was offended and Wufei found it rather funny despite the circumstances.  Dropping his eyes to the floor, he kept his opinion to himself as their comrades around the room started to pull on the thread Heero had offered…with or without Mendez’s blessing.

“But why would they want or need a contribution from an outside source?” an agent in the back asked.  “Wouldn’t they go to their syndicate allies first?”

“Not if their allies are just as broke,” another replied, a ballpoint pen flipping between her fingers.

“And keep in mind it’s not a donation – it’s business,” a third added.

Sally sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, silencing the sudden hubbub from around the room.  “Starlink is headquartered in L2.  If the trail leads there, we’ll need to get with the orbital branch units, which means we’ll lose jurisdiction.  We need to catch them Earth-side or our target will disappear.”

“Only to turn up dead in two weeks,” Mendez added, sounding disgruntled about this turn of events. “That is, unless he’s managed to brand himself as some techno Robin Hood for the colonial populace.”

“We need someone on the inside to give us the straight answers we need,” Sally mused, eyeing the evidence board once more. 

“I’m sorry boss.  We don’t have anyone on the books—”

“What about _off_ the books?” she asked, interrupting the man. 

In the silence that stretched in the room, Wufei glanced sidelong at Heero.  Their eyes met and they shared a mutual understanding.  Quietly he said, “We may know a guy…”

+++++

It went without saying the two of them were heading to L2. 

Wufei had not seen their wayward comrade in years but knew Duo Maxwell traveled in unsavory circles, which was an endless source of frustration for those _select_ members of Preventers’ leadership team that monitored the whereabouts of former Gundam Pilots.  Contraband and small-time smuggling, some forgery on the side.  Last Wufei had heard, Duo had opened up a small speakeasy to augment the above-board income the Schbeiker Scrapyard brought in.  He had no idea whether Duo would help them.

Heero was more confident.  The man had spent much of AC 196 in the L2 cluster with Duo trying – and failing – to adjust to civilian life.  Heero had argued that despite his utter lack of respect for the law and authority, Duo’s moral compass was calibrated just fine. 

After orders were given and tickets were bought, Wufei had hurried home to pack before eventually joining Heero at his apartment.  Upon his crossing the threshold into the unit, Heero asked him, “Do you have your gun?”

Firearms were standard issue for field agents – they rarely left their sides. “Yes…?” Wufei answered, suddenly uncertain. 

Heero shook his head.  “Leave it.  They’ll confiscate it upon arrival – Preventers authority or no.  You can store it in my safe,” he explained, pointing at a black lockbox that stood open, his own weapon and ammo already inside.  He then disappeared around the corner while Wufei divested himself of his firearm and duffel.  As loath as he was to part with the firearm, he dreaded the prospect of a confrontation at the shuttle port even more.

Weapons stowed, Wufei crossed his arms over his chest and meandered the small common area, eventually reaching the window which stood open onto the false balcony.  Heero, by Wufei’s suggestion, had purchased a number of plants and hanging boxes several months prior in an effort to keep his mind occupied during the inevitable downswings when his demons would come storming out into the forefront.  It seemed to Wufei that the plants had flourished under Heero’s careful attention, brimming over their confines and spanning the length of the balcony railings. 

“What will you do about your plants?” Wufei asked as he reached out to touch the small green leaves. 

“My neighbor has agreed to come by while I’m gone,” came the answer from elsewhere in the studio. 

His back still to Heero, Wufei scoffed.  “You let your neighbor into your apartment?  I didn’t think you’d be so lax on security.”

“She’s a 75-year-old grandmother of three.  She’s low-threat.”

Wufei allowed himself a smile at that.  In the lull that followed the exchange, he heard Heero making his final preparations for departure.  Wufei turned in time to see the other man reenter the common space from the closet and toss a duffel bag on the kitchen table.  He suddenly felt as though some unseen clock was ticking down on some opportune moment.  He asked the question he had warred with for the past week.  “Why did you kiss me?”

“I felt like it,” Heero answered bluntly.

“You ‘felt like it,’” Wufei repeated, clinging to his indignation.  “What made you think I wanted you to?”

After a beat, Heero turned to meet his eyes and said, “I caught you looking once.  One of the nights you stayed over.  I figured…if you were looking once…maybe you’d looked more than once.”

Wufei swallowed down the agonized scream that rose up in his throat.  Flushed and horrified, he dropped his eyes to the floor.  “I apologize.”

“Wufei, it’s alright—”

“No, it was…” Wufei fumbled with his words, his embarrassment complete.  He kept his eyes on the ground before him, humiliation making his face burn.  It felt as if some unbridgeable abyss had opened up between them that Wufei would tumble headlong into if he wasn’t careful.  “It was unprofessional, and a breach of your trust.  Your trust means a lot to me.  I…had no right—”

Across the room, Heero let escape a growl of frustration.  Wufei dragged his gaze up from the floor to find the other man massaging his temples with his fingertips.  “Professionalism be damned,” Heero cursed, dropping his arms to his sides and holding Wufei transfixed with his gaze.  “Did it occur to you that maybe I _wanted_ you to look?”

This soundly derailed Wufei’s train of thought.  Ever eloquent, he asked, “What?”

“I wanted you to look.  I wanted you to do more than look, if I’m honest but…but you wouldn’t.  So I did: I kissed you.  And now we’re here.”  He spread his arms wide to his sides to take in the rest of the apartment.  “Four hours until orbital launch, talking about our relationship, which is clearly more than platonic.”

“So what now?” Wufei asked, the stripped gears in his head slowly regaining their tenacious traction.

Heero was quiet then, but finally sighed and looked at his watch.  “We go to the shuttle port.  The badges will only expedite our processing so much.”

“And about this?” Wufei asked, gesturing between the two of them.  “We’re about to spend a long time together.”

“I trust you, Wufei,” Heero told him, his voice quiet.  “And I’ve always respected you.  The fact that I happen to enjoy your… _company_ is just a new element.  But you’re my partner and we have a job to do.”

Wufei considered this.  Part of him – a startlingly large part – wanted to cancel their flight and pull all of it out into the open, all of this unspoken need and unresolved tension.  But Heero was right: they had to go, and go soon.  “Postpone to a later date?” he offered.  Heero offered a tired smile and nodded.  “Alright,” Wufei continued and took a steadying breath.  “Let’s go.”

+++++

“Ya wanna run that by me again?”

Duo stood behind the small bar top, his arms spread wide to either side while his hands braced his weight against the polished surface.  His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, the trailing ends of tattoos appearing on freckled forearms just below the rushed cuffs.  A familiar queue hung from the back of his head and swung past his waist, meticulous pleats secured with a black band.  His face was sour, suspicious, and Wufei was beginning to think they had made a grave error.

“Duo—” Heero tried but was stopped right out of the gate when Duo straightened and raised a hand to silence him.

“No, I know my rights.  I dun hafta tell ya anything.”

Wufei grit his teeth and growled, “You’re not under investigation—”

“Yet,” Heero added, perhaps unhelpfully.  But there was a twitch at the corner of Duo’s lips even so, a hint of some jaded amusement.

Wufei pressed on, “—and we didn’t come as agents, not entirely.  We need your help.”

“I’m no rat,” Duo snapped, humor gone once more.

“It’s just information, Duo.”

“People _die_ over information.  You two should fuckin’ know that.”  Duo shook his head and began to angrily wipe down the countertop with a tattered rag he pulled from his hip pocket.  “Do ya know what they do to snitches here?”

“I can’t imagine anything good,” Wufei admitted.

“The L2 gangs’ll cut off yer fingers.  But the mob?  The big fish from off-colony?  They cut out yer tongue.  They take _souvenirs_.  They brand ya for life...or at least ‘til Winner Enterprises learns how t’ regenerate human extremities, s’pose.”  Scrubbing completed, he grabbed two bottles from below and relocated them to the shelf behind him. 

Wufei watched the man fidget through his response and made a mental note that the God of Death still had a difficult time sitting still when the pressure was on.  He tried a different tack.  “We would owe you.”

Duo responded with a derisive snort.  Glancing back at them as he continued to work, he said, “My _clientele_ pegged ya as The Man the moment ya walked in.  Half of ‘em walked out, and half of _them_ hadn’t paid their tabs.  Which – in practical terms – means ya already owe me.”

“Duo, we wouldn’t have come if we thought there was a viable alternative.”

“Listen, gents,” Duo said, turning around to face them once more, every inch of him screaming defiance.  “I _will_ _not_ do this.  It was stupid to ask, stupid to even come ‘ere.” Wufei thought he sounded…tired.  “Please go.  And dun ya ever come back here again.”  When they hesitated, he barked, “Go!”

And with plummeting hopes, they walked out of the bar.

+++++

“Well that was a bust,” Wufei growled, tossing his jacket on his dingy hotel bed.  Crossing to the desk at the opposite corner, he started to unload – his badge, his watch, his phone each were dropped without ceremony on the chipped surface.  “Not sure where we go from here.”  There was a long pause when his partner didn’t answer.  Turning, he found the other man leaning against the wall lost in thought.  “Heero?” he prompted.

The other man shook his head with an air of defeat.  “I thought I knew him better, I was sure he’d help us.”

“Why?  Maxwell has about as much faith in the system as the rest of this colony.”

“Duo may be an anarchist with questionable ethics, but he doesn’t like to see people hurt.  He supports the mission if not the institution.”

At that moment, Wufei’s phone rang from where it sat on top of the desk.  Eerily, so did Heero’s from where it was still holstered at his hip.  Confused and wary, they exchanged suspicious looks and hesitated only a moment at the ‘blocked caller’ that appeared on their screens.  Then with meticulous timing, they each brought their phones to their ears, Wufei answering for them both, “Chang.”

There was a pause on the other end, but then, “The walls still have ears, ya know.” Duo informed them, “Give me a month and you’ll have what ya need.  But I have… _conditions_.”

Wufei figured as much.  “What conditions?”

“I have…assets I need to protect.  They need safe passage off-colony.  Can ya do that?”

“I’m not running whatever it is—”

“Hey man, ya came to me as friends, yeah?  I’m askin’ as a friend.  Deal or no deal.”

“Deal,” Heero jumped into the conversation before Wufei could answer.  Wufei whirled on his partner, but something in his eyes prevented him from protesting the matter further.

On the other end of the line Duo answered, “Good.  Portside.  0700.  Bring yer stuff – yer leavin’.”

+++++

“If he asks us to run contraband past the ESUN authorities on Preventers badges, I’m calling this whole thing off.”

From off to his side, Heero flipped a page in the book he was pretending to read and shook his head.  “He won’t.  Remember he asked as a friend.  The smuggling racket is business.  A side business, but a business nonetheless.  Duo doesn’t mix the two.”

Doing his best to be inconspicuous, Wufei leaned heavily back against the shuttle port bench on which he sat and went back to scanning the faces in the crowd: people coming and going, running to the shuttle gates at frantic sprints, lingering for heartfelt goodbyes in dozens of languages.  He chanced a glance at his watch – they were quickly running out of time – and he wondered whether Duo had had second thoughts.

“There,” Heero said from beside him.  “11 o’clock.”

Wufei looked up and found Duo Maxwell nearly on top of them.  How he’d avoided detection until now, he wasn’t sure.  He’d forgotten Duo’s forte.  It seemed the man could still be a ghost when it suited him, a fact that unnerved him more than he cared to admit.

But he wasn’t alone Wufei realized as Heero stood and crossed to the petite woman who appeared at Duo’s side.  Black, short-cropped hair and brilliant green eyes, Wufei recognized Hilde Schbeiker – Duo’s partner – from the faintest of memories from years prior.  And then he noticed the sizeable bump in her midsection.  The woman looked like she’d swallowed a basketball. 

As Heero steered Hilde toward the gates, a familiarity in their touch Wufei didn’t recognize, he got to his feet and pulled Duo aside to hiss, “She’s pregnant.”

“I know.”

“ _Very_ pregnant.”  His thoughts whirled around everything that could possibly go wrong in this transit.

“Again, I know.  I kinda helped with that.”  Duo paused beside him, putting some more distance between them and Heero and Hilde.  “I told ya what happens ‘round here for doin’ exactly the things yer asking me to do.  But it ain’t just my neck on the line.”  In an uncharacteristic display of uncertainty, he worried his lower lip between his teeth and murmured, “If anything happens to me—”

“She’ll be safe with us,” Wufei answered without hesitation.

Duo met his gaze and held it, studying, judging whether assurance from a Preventers agent would amount to much.  In the end, he seemed satisfied.  “Okay.  Let’s do this.”  And with a final lingering look at Hilde’s back, he faded into the crowd and disappeared.

+++++

Two weeks since their return from L2, they were back in the field aiding a take-down that had resulted in Wufei’s blood singing in his veins for hours after they’d returned to headquarters to stow their gear.

The fight had been brief but violent and _loud_.  Their targets had blown the gas tanks at the depot, the supply going up like hellfire as bullets had whizzed by their heads.  For one terrifying moment, Wufei had lost Heero in the chaos following the explosion.  As the dust settled, he’d found him further down the line of agents reloading.  Heero had offered him a weary thumbs-up and with a nod, the two of them reengaged with the rest of the team.

Back at the branch, Wufei had cornered Heero and asked, “Your place or mine?” He meant it to be a simple, innocent question, one he’d asked hundreds of times before.  But something about it felt unfamiliar on his lips, like he was asking more than he realized.

If Heero felt the same he gave no indication, his face still and tranquil as it always ever was after a fire fight…but there was something thrumming just under the surface.  Something violent.  “Mine,” came the answer and the word sent chills down Wufei’s spine.  He suppressed the shudder and the two of them left the office together.

It happened so fast, Wufei would later recall.

They were no sooner across the threshold and into the apartment that he slammed Heero up against the wall in the entryway.  As their lips met in a rough kiss, Heero’s hands moved to the back of his head, drawing him closer and holding him in place.

Wufei heard the _snap_ of the band which held his hair back, the dark strands falling free to brush his shoulders.  He paid it little mind – he was too busy unbuttoning Heero’s shirt, his hands finding purchase on taut muscle and flushed skin beneath.  He deepened the kiss, their lips parting as his tongue slid between them, cutting off the gasp that escape Heero’s mouth.  He distantly registered the other man’s hands moving to his waist, deftly unfastening his belt buckle, calloused fingers working their way into his pants.  Wufei groaned as the other man took him in hand and Heero used the opportunity to bite at his lower lip before they returned to the kiss.

“Let go of my hair,” Heero ground out.  Wufei released him, not realizing when his hands had found their way to the other man’s scalp and Heero sunk to his knees, his back against the wall.  Heero pulled the length of him from his pants with impatient hands, his mouth descending on the head while calloused fingers wrapped around the base.

Wufei choked on the breath in his throat and braced his forearm against the wall as Heero moved on him, the tight heat of his mouth broken only by the velvet sweep of the other man’s tongue over the sensitive head.  Wufei vaguely registered the fingers around the base of his cock releasing him as Heero took him deeper into his mouth, the hand joining its partner to tug Wufei’s pants past his hips.  Heero’s fingers found purchase on the backs of Wufei’s thighs, dull fingernails biting into the flesh just under the curve of his ass, urging him closer, deeper, into the tight heat of Heero’s mouth.

Reaching down, Wufei pulled one of Heero’s hands away from where it clung to the back of his thigh. Cradling the man’s wrist against his palm, Wufei pressed it up against the wall, level with Heero’s head, and felt more than heard the man groan around his cock.  Heero’s other hand clenched, fingertips bruising the flesh it still held in its grasp.

Again and again, Wufei buried himself in the other man’s hungry mouth, Heero goading him on with enticing moans that rumbled up through his throat.  It was enough, more than enough, and he gave himself over, tumbling down the abyss as his orgasm rocked him.

Wufei pulled away gasping, his head still spinning as he stepped out of his pants and tossed them aside before dropping down to straddle Heero’s thigh.  The other man coughed weakly from his place beneath him before Wufei pulled him close for another searing kiss. 

“I knew it,” Heero muttered against his lips, laughter in his chest.  “Kinky bastard.”

Wufei ignored the playful jab and deepened the kiss, tasting himself on Heero’s lips.  Heero was more than happy to oblige its seemed, his fingers reaching out to tangle in the black hair at the back of Wufei’s head.  Through the haze of the languid play of lips and tongues, Wufei reached down the other man’s body, feeling it shudder beneath him.  His fingers trespassed over scars that marred the man’s torso – bullet holes and thermal burns, crooked gashes left by the memory of shrapnel and switchblades.  He undid the clasp of Heero’s belt and parted the teeth of the fly before reaching inside to withdraw the hard length of Heero’s cock from its confines. 

Heero gasped and cursed as Wufei’s hand moved on him, his head falling back against the wall as his eyes screwed shut.  Wufei ducked his head forward to press a line of kisses against the other man’s exposed neck, his tongue darting forward to taste Hero’s skin which earned an appreciative rumble from the man beneath him.  With ever growing insistency, Wufei pulled Heero to the brink and threw him tumbling over, the man’s release sticky on his hands.

The two of them spent, they huddled together in the hall of Heero’s apartment, their hungry kisses from before now overcome by something slow and deep, promises of things yet to come…later, when their strength had returned.  “Bed,” Heero groaned when they finally parted.

“We should probably bring our clothes with us,” Wufei mused.

Heero exhaled what could have been a laugh.  “Probably.  But I doubt we’ll require them.”

+++++

Wufei floated back up from oblivion, an unfamiliar weight heavy on his shoulder.  He raised a hand and tangled his fingers in an unruly mop of brown hair.  _Heero…_ The man was asleep as far as he could tell, his breathing deep and even. 

Blinking his eyes up at the dark ceiling, his mind ran through the events that brought him here.  Wufei barely remembered how they had even made it on to the bed.  Stumbling in the dark apartment, exhausted from their foray in the front hall and drunk on endorphins, they had shed the remainder of their disheveled clothing before collapsing into the bed together. 

Heero’s grip tightened around his ribs and Wufei resumed his affectionate ministrations, dark hair falling between his fingers.  They’d wanted each other, so they’d taken each other with the same headlong aggression they shared in the field.  And now they were here in no man’s land.  _Good God,_ Wufei thought, _what the hell are we doing?_

“Don’t,” the man in his arms whispered.

Startled, Wufei covered his surprise by asking, “‘Don’t’ what?”

“Think,” Heero answered, his words muffled against the crook of Wufei’s neck.  “You’re already thinking, asking yourself, ‘Now what?’  Stop.  For at least a little while longer…please?”

The entreaty hung between them for a breathless moment and Wufei pushed aside his doubts.  He ducked his head and pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of Heero’s head before lying back against the bed.  Closing his eyes once more, he focused on the other man’s breathing, allowing it to soothe his whirling thoughts as he drifted back to sleep.

+++++

Morning came with soft bands of gray light, filtering into the bedroom through the slats in the window blinds.  Heero had already extracted himself from Wufei’s arms as he came into consciousness.  Half-awake, Wufei heard the other man offer him the first shower.  Blinking his eyes open at last, he allowed himself to watch Heero slip into a pair of sweats before disappearing around the corner, heading for the kitchen. 

Wufei pushed himself upright, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and running his hand through his tousled hair before standing.  The sound of Heero moving about the kitchen followed him as he rescued his discarded clothes from the floor and fled into the adjoining bathroom. 

The shower did little to wash away the images that returned unbidden to his mind’s eye.  Heero trapped between him and the wall.  Heero yielding when he joined him on the floor.  Heero surrendering as he kissed him afterward, the two of them sated, fingers twisting in disheveled clothes.

With a groan, Wufei screwed his eyes shut against the spray of water.  _This is not going to end well…_

When he emerged from the bathroom, clean but only moderately composed, he went in search of Heero.  He found the other man in the kitchen peeling an orange over the sink.  Heero glanced over his shoulder and gestured silently to a cup of black coffee that sat on the countertop between them.  Wufei took it with a nod of thanks.  He retreated a step to lean back against the wall and watched the other man, hoping he would speak first and save him from his tumultuous thoughts. 

When Heero didn’t offer him a reprieve, Wufei asked at last, “What now?”

He watched Heero’s shoulders fall with a silent sigh, curving defensively against the question as if he was trying to shield the vulnerable parts of himself from the words.  “I don’t know,” Heero answered, acknowledging their shared uncertainty.

“We should stop this now, or report to Sally,” Wufei heard himself say, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears.

“No.  On both counts.”

“Heero, all of this is against regulations—”

“I don’t _care_ about their regulations,” Heero snapped and turned to face him, the orange still clutched in his hand.  The air sparked between them, Heero’s eyes holding some unspoken need, a longing to be heard and _understood_ in ways no one else could. 

Wufei wondered whether he could fulfill the hopes that were laid bare in those clear blue eyes.  After a time, he asked, “What do you care about?”

“You.”

The admission did something strange to Wufei’s heart.  The ache only grew when Heero’s face betrayed his horror at the declaration, but whether it was fear of rejection or his own apparent lack of self-control, Wufei couldn’t tell.  “Objectivity tends to get murky when emotions get involved.”

“You don’t think I can be objective when it comes to you?” Heero asked.

It was an honest question and so Wufei offered an honest answer in return.  “I don’t know.  But I know I haven’t been objective with _you_ since I stayed over here the _first_ time.  That was…what, over a year ago?” Wufei said, his heart pounding in his chest.  He wondered if Heero could hear it at the other side of the kitchen.  “So…ultimately…nothing would really change, would it?”

They shared a long silence, searching each other’s faces for some glimpse of understanding.  And then Wufei watched the tension melt from Heero’s face, his gaze softening as he admitted, “No, I guess not.”

+++++

True to his word, Duo made contact after four weeks of radio silence.  He was coming to Earth, he explained on the untraceable line, and if they wanted what he had, they had better make damn well sure his name was clean for arrival.  “I want amnesty, too.  New docs and all.”

“Duo, identification papers take _weeks_.  Be reasonable—”

“I’m bein’ _hella_ reasonable after the shit I’ve had to pull for you guys.  I’m gettin’ outta here, Chang.  And if I get arrested at the border for not having proper entry clearance, you’re _fucked_.”

“ _Fine_.  When will you get here?”

“I’m boarding the shuttle, I’m getting into my seat…” Duo answered, a dark laugh underpinning his words.  “Get crackin,’ agent.  Clock’s a-tickin.’”

Wufei disconnected the line with a violent curse and bolted from his desk, charging through the branch office in search of his absent partner.  He found Heero huddled over a conference table with a cluster of other agents, talking of numbers and data feeds.  Bursting into the room, he grabbed all of their attention at once.  “I have to go bash heads in at border security,” he explained.  “Tell Sally we have incoming – we’ll need to meet him at the shuttle port in case he runs into trouble.”

“Why do we need entry clearance?”

“Because he jumped ship,” Wufei explained between clenched teeth.

“Dammit,” Heero cursed with a grimace, realization dawning on how bad this could go if Duo was denied entry.

“Exactly.”

“When?”

Wufei glanced at his watch.  “Five hours and…forty-five minutes.”  He turned to run down another hall but spun back on his heel and asked, “Do you happen to still have contacts at the ESUN?”

Heero’s eyes darted sidelong at the other agents in the room – who stood silently by, shamelessly watching the drama unfold before them – before answering, “Uh—”

Wufei dismissed his concern with a wave of his hand.  “Whatever.  Make some calls – we need two global passports.  Today.”  And then he did bolt down the hall, already withdrawing his cellphone.

Five and a half hours later found the two of them at the shuttle port, frazzled and furious in equal measure. 

To Duo’s credit, he didn’t display any outlandish signs of appreciation upon arrival.  Instead, he kept walking a straight line through the arrival terminal, Heero and Wufei falling into step beside him as they exited the building.  “Black car, two o’clock,” Heero instructed and the three of them moved together, synchronized and precise, climbing into the vehicle that sat waiting at the curb.

Once they were underway, Heero reached into his jacket and produced two passports registered to the ESUN.  Global citizenry, a privilege few enjoyed.  “As promised.”  Wufei thought he sounded a bit perturbed and schooled his features to avoid smirking.

Duo ignored the tension, if he sensed it at all, snatching the offered documents and flipping through them.  “Ah, shit.  Well done, man,” he crooned, his voice weighted down by no small amount of admiration.

“Did they make you?” Heero asked, frustration bleeding into concern.

“I don’t think,” Duo replied stowing the documents away on his person, “but no point in taking chances.  Not with these guys.  Nasty fuckers…”

“You’ll need to brief the team when we get to headquarters,” Wufei said, sensing an opening.  “The case has struggled without useful intel—”

“When do I see Hil?”

Wufei took a deep breath, bracing for the backlash.  “After the briefing.”  To his surprise, Duo didn’t protest.  He worried his lower lip between his teeth and nodded, seeming to come to terms with the arrangement. 

At headquarters, they escorted him directly to the conference room which was packed with field agents in clear violation of fire code.  Duo hesitated only a moment at the door before fitting into place a million-watt smile and making a beeline for Sally Po.  Reaching out, he shook her offered hand and took a seat next to her while they exchanged some pleasantries.  Turning to the rest of those assembled, Sally introduced him just as he was.  This got the agents’ attention.

“Wait, Chief?” came the question from the back of the conference room.  “This is our asset?  A small-time smuggler with questionable allegiances?” 

Duo’s face darkened.  He turned to Sally and pointed down the table at her subordinate.  “Ya know, I dun really like that one.”

She smiled back at him, a dangerous glint in her eyes.  “Perhaps not, but I know I for one am very interested in hearing what you have to say.”

Wufei caught the furtive glance Duo shot his way before the man was all Cheshire grins once more.  “Well, since ya put it that way,” Duo began, standing.  Rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, tattoos on full display, he walked to the dry erase board behind him and picked up a marker. “Now pay attention, class.  I’m only gonna explain this once.  There _will_ be a test…”

After the brief, Heero and Wufei escorted Duo off the premises and back to the hotel suite that had served as the safe house they’d brought Hilde to upon her arrival Earth-side.  As they entered the room, Duo did an initial visual sweep of the space before heading for the bedroom.  Silent as a ghost, he slipped into the room and shut the flimsy door behind him.

Wufei and Heero loitered in the small kitchenette, the sound of quiet voices and murmured reassurances drifting through the space between them and the couple in the other room.  Heero pushed away from the counter and inclined his head to the small living area, retreating further into the hotel suite.  He then dropped into a corner of the couch while Wufei took a seat on a chair nearby and the two of them settled in to wait.

When Duo reemerged, gently closing the bedroom door behind him, he padded silently to the couch and collapsed in the opposite corner to Heero with a heavy sigh, his arms stretching across the back cushions. 

“She’s due in a few weeks,” Duo said before either agent could speak.  He tilted his head back toward the ceiling and closed his eyes.  “We’ll stay until the kid’s born, then we’ll beat it the hell outta here.”

“Where will you go?” Wufei asked.

Duo grinned then.  “Dunno – maybe we’ll run off and join the circus for a bit.” He winked roguishly at him and Wufei couldn’t fight the smile that rose out of the blatant hint.  He considered warning him about Catherine Bloom’s cooking skills, but then thought better of it – some things just had to be experienced firsthand.

+++++

In the end, their enemies had exacted their bloody toll before accepting defeat.  The kingpin had been carted away screaming of vengeance even as his men were tallied and recorded among the fallen.

…which included their own.  Wufei stood to the side to watch as agents were loaded onto stretchers or disappeared under the zippers of black body bags.  At some point in time, he would have been filled with such aimless rage he would have had to beat it out of himself.  Now he just felt…tired.

There was a touch at his elbow and Wufei turned to find Heero beside him, looking worse for wear.  Blood still flowed red from his hairline.  “You’re bleeding,” Wufei observed.

“So are you,” Heero countered, tapping Wufei’s bicep where a stray bullet had grazed him.

Turning fully to face his partner, Wufei said, “You should get that looked at.”

Heero seemed to acknowledge the unspoken shift.  “Let’s get back to headquarters first.  We can both get patched up at the clinic.”

Wufei nodded, trying to block out the sound of hospital-bound vehicles as they sped off, sirens blaring.  The moment passed and he asked, “Later…your place or mine?”

Something in his partner faltered at the question, hairline fractures appearing below the surface of his outward calm.  “Yours.”

+++++

Wufei awoke alone in his apartment the next morning.  The space beside him was cold, Heero long since gone.  He sighed, scrubbing at his eyes as sleep slipped away.  Was this to be the new normal, he wondered.  Monotonous days within the bureaucracy, punctuated by bloody intervals that ended with the two of them wrapped around each other seeking solace and closure. 

With a groan, he hefted himself out of bed, tossing aside the sheets, and set about his morning routine.

Upon arrival at the branch office, he found Heero’s desk untouched from the day before.  A sudden onset of suspicion and dread rose from his belly with each moment that passed without a sign of his partner. 

At last, he broke down and asked a colleague if they had seen Heero.  His stomach plummeted when she told him the other man was in Sally’s office.  “Why?”

“Dunno,” the woman said with a flippant shrug.  “He’s your partner.”

Excusing himself, he bid a hasty retreat to the Chief’s office and let himself in.  Heero and Sally both turned their attention to him when he entered and shut the door behind him.  “You told her.” It wasn’t a question.

“I told her,” Heero affirmed anyway and Wufei was glad he had the sense to sound at least somewhat apologetic.

“I’m surprised I didn’t hear it from you first, honestly,” Sally said to Wufei, her tone light.  She stood behind her desk, her hands braced comfortably against her hips. 

“His penchant for avoiding the _whole_ truth is rubbing off on me,” Wufei answered, his eyes locked on his partner’s as he moved to join the other man standing before their superior.  The corner of Heero’s mouth twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, before he ducked his head away and schooled his features once more.

“So it seems.” Sally’s eyes jumped between the two of them before she gestured to the chairs in front of her desk and took a seat herself.  As the two men got settled, she began to speak.  “As you both know, regulations prevent me from willfully allowing two agents to work together in the field after they’ve become… _involved._ ”

The emphasis instilled a host of visions of Heero regaling Sally with their most intimate exploits.  The thought made Wufei flush, his teeth clenching painfully.

If Sally noticed his discomfort, she said nothing of it.  “However, I’m loathe to break up the band, so to speak.  You two are an impressive team and have done tremendous work for the branch and the organization.  So I have an idea.”  Training her sights fully on Heero she asked, “How are you at giving directions?”

Heero glanced over at Wufei before turning back to their chief, clearly confused. “Why?” he asked.

Sally smiled.  “I’d like you to be our Oracle.”

“Our what?”

Resting her arms on the top of the desk, she clasped her hands before her and began to speak, her gray eyes bouncing between the two of them.  “Preventers is setting up groups of individuals as augmentation teams to our field agents.  They process massive amounts of raw data in real time.  Radio traffic, security cameras, satellite video feeds, infrared…all to relay that information to our teams on the ground as they execute the mission.  They often see things before the agents themselves, hence—”

“Oracle,” Heero finished for her, sounding distant and lost in tumultuous thoughts.  

Wufei shifted his gaze from his boss to his partner and watched the gears spinning behind those blue eyes.  Turning back to Sally, he asked, “You’ve seen these cells in action?”

The Branch Chief nodded.  “Highly effective when done right, but they always need someone in charge.” Interlacing her fingers, she propped her elbows on the desk and leaned toward them.  “I’d like you to lead the team, Heero, and I’d defer to you on who you want on it.” 

“Can I think about it?” Heero asked.  The question was a nicety – from where he sat beside the other man, Wufei had no doubt Heero already had a decision, for better or worse.

“Of course,” Sally conceded, waving her hand dismissively.  “But I need an answer soon.  The alternative is that I split you two up and everyone will ask why.  Preventers agents are a gossipy bunch.  If, however, I name you as Oracle, well…clearly your past work coupled with your time here with us makes you a prime candidate for the job.  No one would need to know about your private affairs.”

Conversation over for the time being, the two of them excused themselves from Sally’s office.  As they headed down the hall back to their desks, Heero turned to him.  Wufei cut him off.  “No.  Later.”  From the corner of his eye, he watched Heero’s mouth snap shut.  They returned silently to their cubicles and did their damnedest to pretend nothing had changed.

But at closing time, Wufei hauled his partner back to his apartment.  No sooner had the door shut at their heels that he launched into him.  “Why did you go to her?” Wufei asked now that they were finally alone.  “Why did you not talk to me first?”  Whirling on the other man, he found Heero looking suitably chastised.

“I couldn’t be objective,” Heero explained, sounding pained.  “Not with you.  Not after everything.”

“So you told Sally you wanted to quit?  Or transfer?”

Heero shook his head as he walked across the room, putting some more space between them.  “I didn’t tell her I wanted to leave – I told her I was unfit to be your partner.”

“Since when were you ever ‘unfit’ for anything?”  The question brought forth echoes of a conversation from what felt like ages ago.  Heero caught the reference, and a half-hearted smile graced his lips at the memory.  Encouraged, Wufei pressed on.  “I have an opinion about this offer from Sally,” he said, “but it was offered to you, so it doesn’t really matter what I think.”

“Your opinion always matters,” Heero asserted.  Wufei remained silent, schooling his features and forcing Heero to continue talking.  The other man did, albeit begrudgingly.  “If I don’t take it, I have to leave.  But if I do take it…I’m not in the field anymore.  I wouldn’t be able to help you.”

Wufei raised his hand to forestall the other’s line of thought and stepped forward, beginning to close the distance Heero had put between them.  “But you would – you’d be my eyes and ears.  You’d be everywhere.  And it wouldn’t be just me,” he said, taking another few steps.  “It’d be me and everyone else out there.  How many people do you want to save, Heero?”  The words hurt as much to say as he knew they would be to hear.  How many more could have come home from the last mission with a tactical mind like Heero’s watching over and directing them?

“One…condition.  Or…request, I guess,” Heero murmured, softening the demand as soon as it left his mouth.  His face was downcast, unable or unwilling to meet Wufei’s eyes.

Wufei waited for Heero to continue and when he didn’t, he ducked his head close to force the other man to meet his gaze once more.  While those blue eyes searched his, Wufei pressed him, “And what would that be?”

“If I don’t get to see you on the clock, I’d like to see you off of it.” 

“So…I move in, or you move in.  Is that the condition?”

“I’d like it to be,” Heero admitted.

Wufei considered this and looked around the cramped space of his apartment, with its too-small kitchen and utter lack of false balconies and flowerboxes.  He felt the tug at this lips, a growing smile.  His tone light, he asked, “Remind me: how big is your place?”


	3. Adjustments

It had taken the better part of a year for Heero and Sally to cobble together and then train a team to serve as the branch’s eyes and ears on missions, another six months before they were fully integrated into the daily Preventers operations.  It had taken everyone some time to get used to the ghosts whispering in their ears, but Heero and his team gradually won them over, one failed sneak attack, one avoided booby trap, one last-minute save at a time.

Now, two years after Sally announced that Heero would take up the mantle of the branch Oracle, Wufei wondered how they had managed so long without the constant flow of information that beamed into their earpieces from places unseen.

Back at headquarters following yet another successful sting, Heero met him as Wufei left the storage locker.  His face betrayed his general frustration even before he opened his mouth.  “You need to relearn to check your six,” Heero growled as he fell in step with Wufei while the two of them walked across the echoing expanse of the garage.  “One of these days, someone is going to shoot you in the ass because you didn’t think to look behind you.”

“That’s why I have you, isn’t it?” Wufei shot back, not entirely able to hide the smirk that was forming on his lips. 

“That’s not the point.  Eventually I’m going to miss something,” Heero asserted.  “The team’s not all-knowing; we only work with the data we have.”

“Which is more than _we_ have,” Wufei intoned.  Turning to fully face the other man, he continued, “If I can borrow an adage from a mutual friend…Chill.”

The comment had the desired effect: the corner of Heero’s mouth twitched upwards in the hints of a smile.  Tension diffused, they resumed their trek across the garage to rejoin the rest of the unit as they headed to the elevators bound for the floors above and the operation’s debriefing.

Once they had returned home, the two of them slipped into the familiarity of routine.  Heero crossed the studio apartment to the false balcony to tend to his thriving plants while Wufei headed to the kitchen.  He pulled a wok from a cabinet and set it on the stove before turning his attention to the contents of the refrigerator to take stock of their supplies.

Heero returned to the kitchen then and ducked past him, pulling two bottles of beer from the refrigerator.  He produced a bottle opener from one of the drawers and popped both caps before handing one back to Wufei, who accepted it with a muttered word of thanks.

“We really need to restock,” Wufei told him as he pulled some vegetables and shut the door with his foot.  Heero nodded from where he leaned against the counter, holding but not drinking his beer.  His eyes were focused elsewhere.  Wufei took a pull from his own bottle and observed, “You’re quiet.  Something wrong?”

The question pulled Heero from his reverie.  “No, I just have this…bad feeling that I can’t shake.”

“About today’s sting?”

“No, I think it’s the other one we’re working.  The raid that OPS are charting as we speak.”

“That’s months away.”

“I know.”

“And the intel is sound.”

“I know that too,” Heero replied with a shake of his head.  “No _overt_ cause for alarm.  But I’m not paid to look at the overt.” He brought the bottle in his hand to his lips and took a long swallow.

Wufei considered Heero’s words in silence before he said, “You have time to find the glitch that has you on edge.  But in the meantime, try to relax.”

Heero gave him a subtly roguish smile.  “You want to help me with that?”

Wufei fought a grin of his own.  “Later.  Dinner first.”

The other man nodded, seemingly satisfied with the decision and pushed away from the counter.  “What can I help with?” he asked, joining Wufei by the stove.

+++++

The months passed in a blur.  The raid which had had Heero on edge was finally upon them. 

The early morning of 2 December 208 found Wufei and the rest of the team huddled and hidden outside the grounds of an abandoned Alliance mobile suit factory.  Gutted for parts to be repurposed for more humane endeavors, the building stood dark and vacant, its sprawling mass taking up the length of three city blocks in the middle of nowhere.  Snow had begun to fall in heavy flakes that stuck to their body armor and coated the world around them in a sheen of white.  Dawn was still a long way’s off, the total darkness overhead broken only by lights of a distant city.

The agents suffered the chill winter wind as they observed the target, Oracle relaying radio traffic and infrared data beamed down from satellites in orbit.  Everyone was in position; everything was within the operation’s established parameters.  Textbook raid: open and shut.

“All units report in,” the raid’s orchestrating agent called out over the encrypted radio mounted to his shoulder.  The man was answered by a chorus of acknowledgements and a final weapons check rippled through the group.  “Field team is a go,” the agent reported for the record.  To their Eyes in the Sky, he called, “Oracle, you still with us?” 

It was only then that Wufei realized Heero had gone eerily silent.  He waited with bated breath, just as he knew the rest of them did.  New standard operating procedures dictated Oracle had to support. 

“Oracle, come back,” the agent tried again.

Another heavy pause from Heero.  But then, “Oracle is go.”

The agents moved in practiced precision, silent and deadly shadows moving amongst the deteriorating infrastructure of the factory yard. 

Wufei heard only the sudden, urgent, “Wait—” from Heero seconds before it all went to Hell.  The roar of the explosion.  A flash of pain.

Then darkness.

+++++

Wufei opened his eyes to a sterile white ceiling.  _Hospital_ , his brain supplied, but refused to forfeit any additional information on how or why he was there.

Dropping his eyes from the ceiling overhead, he surveyed the rest of the room.  Small and private, it implied uniformity over human comforts.  The sole window on the opposite wall offered glimpses of the world outside, the light coming through the blinds suggesting the day was well underway.  How late had he slept?  He searched briefly for a clock, but came up empty-handed.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Turning, Wufei found a heavyset woman in cheerful pink scrubs standing in the doorway.  “What time is it?” he asked her.

“Nearly two in the afternoon,” she replied, stepping into the room and walking over to the foot of his bed.  Withdrawing his chart, she made a note and said, “I just wanted to check to see if you needed anything before I go off of my shift.  Dr. Singh is making the rounds, so he’ll be here shortly.”

“Who?”

“The physician who’s been treating you.”

“‘Been treating’ me?” Wufei echoed, suspicion growing.  “How long have I been here?”

Confusion flashed briefly across her face before it was replaced by dawning realization.  “Oh that’s right,” she muttered to herself.  To him she said only, “The doctor will be along in just a few minutes.  I’ll let him explain.”  And with that, she was gone again, leaving Wufei once more alone.

He sighed and turned his eyes from the door to survey the room.  Small and private, uniform more than comfortable.  _A hospital_ , he deduced, but couldn’t remember why.  There was a single window on the opposite wall which suggested the day was well-established, the light coming through the blinds bright and clear.  How late had he slept?  He searched the walls for a clock, but found no sign of one.

“Agent Chang, it’s good to see you awake.”

Wufei turned to the voice and found a tall man standing in the doorway.  The white jacket labeled him as a physician.  His dark eyes were kind when they met his gaze.  “Laura said you were awake, so I wanted to stop by soonest.”

“Who’s Laura?” Wufei asked.

The man pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded.  “I thought you might say that.  Do you mind if I sit down?” he asked, gesturing to a chair that stood by the bed.  Wufei shrugged but nodded.  The doctor closed the distance with two long strides and took a seat.

“My name is Dr. Singh and I’ve been your physician for the duration of your stay with us.  Do you recall the incident that brought you here?” Wufei shook his head.  The doctor then took a deep breath and began to explain.

As Wufei listened, words like ‘trauma,’ ‘brain damage,’ and ‘coma’ drifted in the air around him.  ‘Amnesia’ joined them soon after and Wufei felt himself go numb.  He rolled the word around in his head, even as he felt the fibers of memory that held it begin to slip.

As the doctor excused himself, Heero replaced him in the bedside chair.  Before he could be distracted, Wufei informed him, “I have amnesia.”

Heero nodded, clearly unsurprised.  He looked tired.  There were dark circles under his eyes, his back hunched forward where he sat.  “What do you remember?” he asked.

He considered the question and looked about the small, private room.  The window on the opposite wall offered the sole suggestion of the world outside, bright light filtering through the drawn blinds.  The room lacked any sense of comfort, its uniformity suggesting he was in a hospital, but it was unclear why.

“Wufei,” Heero prompted, drawing his attention back to him.  “What do you remember?” 

 _Remember_.  Wufei wracked his brain and found it disconcertingly devoid of his recent past.  He searched further back.  “I remember…me.  Who and what I am.  The others – the five of us, I mean,” he clarified, “but I remember you most of all.  I remember _us_.”  He let the weight of the word pass between them and watched Heero’s lips quirk upward in a gentle smile, encouraging.  Wufei pressed on.  “But…I don’t remember how you take your coffee, or what your favorite color is.  What happened to me, why I’m here.  How long I’ve been here.  How many times we’ve had this conversation.”

Heero was quiet for a time.  When he spoke his voice was strained, tight with unspoken emotion.  “You can’t remember the coffee because I drink tea with honey.  My favorite color is blue.  You and several other agents were injured in the field during a raid, though you got the brunt of it.  You’ve been here for 45 days, but conscious for only about a week.  And we’ve had this conversation three times in the last three days.”

+++++

Wufei awoke to the chirping of his phone alarm from where it sat on the end table.  He groaned and rolled onto his back, sorely tempted to ignore the chiming device and drift back to sleep.  Heero was gone already, the sheets beside him cold.  He briefly entertained the thought of burying his face in the other man’s now vacant pillow in an attempt to fill his lungs with the scent of him…but that wouldn’t stop the alarm from going off.  So instead, he reached out and unlocked the phone’s screen.

 _Time to get up,_ the alarm told him, the text scrolling across the screen.  _Read the notebook._

“Notebook?” he murmured, confused.  Looking past the phone, he found a black ledger resting on the end table beside him, its pages marked with tabs and paperclips.  He reached out for the book and ran his fingers over the leather binding. 

 _Read this first_ , said the note that was stuck to the front cover, its edges secured with layers upon layers of clear tape.  It was his handwriting, though he couldn’t recall ever writing the note itself.  Reaching out, he plucked the book from the nightstand and flipped open the front cover.  More of his own handwriting met him.

_You have anterograde amnesia._

_You were a Preventer field agent for 11 years and on 2 December 208, you were injured in the field.  Brain trauma led to a coma.  You woke up with this condition._

_This means you cannot form new memories, and near-term recall is badly degraded.  You have weekly sessions with a functional neurologist, Dr. Maria Laganà.  Every other week you see a psychologist, Dr. Andrea Hsieh.  There are recurring alerts already in your phone._

_Take your phone and this notebook with you everywhere.  Write down everything._

_This is Book #2._

The words – _his_ words – struck him, shocked him.  It was true, wasn’t it?  Why else wouldn’t he remember writing the note?  His past-self was reaching out across time to remind him.  His body shook, the tremors starting somewhere in his chest before spreading through the rest of his limbs. 

He took a few shuddering breaths, steeling his nerves, and opened the book.  He flipped to the latest entry which was dated the day before and skimmed its contents: stray thoughts and opinions, reminders for the day ahead, fears, doubts, anger.  They were all there in his own hand, though he couldn’t recall writing them. 

That was evidence enough, wasn’t it?

He found a pen on the end table and flipped to the next empty page in the notebook, dating it for the today (which he assumed was standard practice, given the book’s previous entries).

From where it lay discarded on the bed beside him, another alarm went off on his phone.  _Go take a shower.  Take me with you._

The rest of his day passed in gray haze, untethered and disjointed in the fog of his brain, punctuated only by the steady reminders and beeping of his phone.  He felt like he lived perpetually in a waking dream.  He knew that he occupied space and time, but he did not know how he happened upon it.  It was like he was constantly materializing into existence exactly as he was. 

It went without saying that he could no longer serve in the field.  Sally had granted him liberal medical leave until he sorted himself out.  She had promised him a job whenever he returned – or so his notebook told him, as he frankly couldn’t recall – but the standing offer made his stomach turn for reasons he couldn’t understand.  He assumed it had to do with the prospect of facing the office again, seeing faces that he recognized but couldn’t place, couldn’t _remember_. 

So he had apparently occupied his time elsewhere, based on the entries by his past selves in the ledger.  He had tried reading at first, classics that he remembered he had loved as a child.  But this had proved to be an exercise in futility – he would start a book and forget the plot and its cast of characters before he could finish it.  He’d begun going to the gym, but like all other aspects of his life, it was heavily regulated – certain days at specific times, alerts on his phone set to go off every 15 minutes or so, to keep his mind from wandering he supposed.

Flipping open a page in the notebook, he withdrew a pen from his pocket and scrawled with a heavy hand on the page.  _You used to have a thing for dates.  You used to be one of the most dangerous people in the entire damn Earth Sphere.  You’re now a slave to the alarms you set.  Fuck._

As he capped the pen and flipped the notebook closed, the phone in his pocket buzzed.  _Eat lunch_ , it told him.  _There is leftover soup in the refrigerator_.  He tapped the snooze button and headed to the kitchen in search of a bowl.

+++++

The steady, too-happy chirp of his phone alarm pulled Wufei from sleep, his frustrated groan echoed by the man that lay beside him.  Heero rolled away from the noise as if he could escape it by putting some added distance between him and the device.  With a sigh, Wufei reached out and lifted the phone from its place on the end table. 

 _Time to get up,_ it said.  _Read the notebook._

Confusion mounting, he turned to find a black ledger and a pen resting on the table beside him.  He took hold of the book and opened it to the front page, noting the surreal _Read this first_ note on the front cover.

_You have anterograde amnesia…_

He flipped through the pages with willful denial, but as he reached yesterday’s entry, his doubt evaporated.  It was true.  He closed the book and let it fall on his chest.  Closing his eyes, he fought bitter tears and clenched his teeth till his jaw ached. 

“Wufei?”  The word was barely above a whisper, colored with sleep.

Turning, he found Heero watching him.  It made him feel vulnerable.  “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” he asked.

“I took the day off,” the other man answered.  “You have an appointment.” 

Wufei wondered if they had discussed this the day before.  He didn’t recall seeing a note on the ledger’s pages about it, but then if what the notebook told him was true, his memory was shot to hell anyway.  Before he could inquire further, his phone alarm went off again.  He glanced at the screen.  _Go take a shower_ , it instructed.  _Take me with you._

The rest of the day passed in a gray haze as Wufei popped in and out of the present with no clear recollection of how he’d gotten there.  And yet, more and more notes in his hand filled the pages of the ledger that was never far from his side, so clearly he had taken the book’s advice and wrote everything down.  Reminders, affirmations, stray thoughts, a warning about bad puns. 

They had just finished lunch, Heero putting their plates in the sink when Wufei’s phone went off.  _Time to see Dr. Hsieh.  Your transit card is in your wallet in your jacket that is hanging in the front hall closet.  There’s a leather satchel there too – take it with you to carry the notebook._

“Hsieh.”  Wufei rolled the name on his tongue.  There was something familiar about it, something regular and consistent.  He went into the device’s calendar and found an incoming event blocked for an hour.  Selecting it, he found a map and meticulous, step-by-step instructions on how to get to the office from the apartment. 

“Dismiss the alert – I’m going with you today,” Heero told him. 

They arrived with thirty minutes to spare, and Wufei idly wondered whether it was an indication of how long it took him to come alone.  He asked as much to Heero, who waved off his concern, saying that the trains were with them, though Wufei didn’t remember riding any (in principle, he did remember riding a subway line at some point, but he couldn’t tell whether or not it had been earlier that day with Heero).  Heero then suggested they kill time by stopping at a café which stood at the base of the building that housed their appointment. 

At first, the change in procedure felt like a pleasant distraction.  But it soon set him on edge.  His phone kept buzzing in his pocket, reminding him again and again that he was ticking down the minutes to a very important meeting. 

Heero must have noticed his agitation.  “You okay?”

“I’m nervous,” Wufei admitted, unable to meet his eyes while he slowly spun the paper coffee cup around on the patio table.

“You’re always nervous,” Heero told him, his voice reassuring. 

“You don’t always come with me though,” Wufei countered.  “That’s why I have alarms on top of alarms to go see…her.”  He was embarrassed to admit it, but he couldn’t remember the woman’s name, or entirely why he was going to see her.  He resisted the urge to check his notebook or his phone for the missing pieces.

“Hsieh,” Heero supplied as if such extensive forgetfulness was commonplace.  “The psychologist.  And no, I don’t always come.  I can’t always get away from work.”

“Why am I always nervous about it?”  Surely there had to be an underlying reason.

“Because she’s of Chinese descent too and you’re irrationally worried that she’ll judge you first for being out of L5 and second for your condition,” Heero informed him, taking a sip from his coffee.  “She won’t.  Ever.  You always come out of the office saying that you like her.”

Wufei had no recollection of this.  “How many times?”

“You’ve seen her twice a month since you came home from the hospital after the incident.”

 _December_ popped into Wufei’s head at mention of the accident.  He looked around the early July day with its endless blue sky and green trees and concluded that this must have been going on for some time.  He didn’t remember. 

They finished their coffees and moved away from the café to the building’s main entrance.  In the lobby, they waited only a moment for an elevator to arrive.  When it did, they rode the car upward as Wufei’s phone alerts buzzed and told them what to do.  He kept dismissing them, following Heero’s lead as he stepped out onto the fourth floor and veered left. 

Heero led him to an office several doors down the hall.  He opened the door and stepped aside, allowing Wufei to go first.  The doctor’s office was painted in a soothing, pale green.  A few empty seats lined the opposite wall.  From behind him, he heard Heero check him in with the male attendant at the small desk and then reappear at his side.  “I feel like I’ve been here before.”

“You have.”

“I know – but it _feels_ familiar.”  Wufei turned to look at his partner now trying to put the sensation to words.  “Like in a dream.  Or muscle memory.  It’s strange.”  He shook his head and waved it off, dismissive. 

Heero looked as if he was about to ask him something, but before he had the chance a door opened at the far end of the room. 

A middle-aged Asian woman stepped out, sporting spectacles, graying hair, and a wide smile.  “Wufei,” she said, stretching out a hand in greeting.  “Andrea,” she introduced himself.  “Good to see you again.”

Wufei shook the woman’s hand and glanced back at Heero, uncertain.  His partner nodded his encouragement.  “I’ll be waiting,” Heero said. 

Dr. Hsieh was rather pleasant, Wufei concluded, but he wagered he had concluded as much multiple times throughout the appointment.  He would on occasion glance up at the clock and find that the hands had miraculously jumped ahead from where he had expected them to be.  During one such instance, he sighed with unfettered frustration. 

“What is it?” the doctor asked.

Wufei considered his words carefully.  “Time keeps moving, but I feel like I’m not a part of it.  Like a scratched disc or a damaged file, I keep skipping ahead and forget where I came from.” 

“How does that make you feel?”

Wufei laughed dryly.  “Right now?  Seeing as I’ve apparently been here for forty minutes already, but can’t remember any of it…I’m feeling mildly irritated.”  He stared at the clock on the wall, watching the second hand slide gracefully around and around.  “But sometimes…it’s upsetting.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because I can’t remember.”  Wufei lowered his eyes to his hands that were clasped in his lap.  He ran his thumb over his palm, tracing the lines there.  His thoughts drifted to Heero.  “It makes me wonder what I’m forgetting.  What I’m missing.”

“You’re a man of action, Wufei,” Hsieh said.  “You and Heero have developed quite the system to keep things moving, which is excellent and admirable.  But you both need something more to get through this.”

“Something more?” Wufei echoed.

“Something long term, that you can work toward.  Set a goal, then set your reminders.” 

This seemed like a logical idea to Wufei, and he pulled out his notebook to jot down an entry.  Perhaps it would give him some direction back, now that he had nothing that was anchoring him to his own life. 

As the session drew to a close, he thanked the doctor and left the room.  Closing the door behind him, he found the waiting area empty.  The attendant at the desk looked up at his hesitation and informed him, “Heero got a call and stepped out in the hallway.  He hasn’t gone far.”

Wufei thanked the man and left the office, closing the door quietly behind him as he stepped out into the hall.  Heero had wandered past the elevator bank and was now pacing back and forth between the walls like some slow-moving pinball.  The other man’s back was turned to Wufei, but he could tell he was still on the phone.  He took a few steps toward him, but hesitated as Heero’s voice drifted across the distance that separated them.

“When we’re talking, when we’re together…I love him and he loves me back and it’s like nothing ever happened,” Heero was saying.  Wufei thought the words carried a deeply buried grief that felt unfamiliar.  “But then he forgets.  Sometimes he gets angry, sometimes it just makes him sad.  And I don’t know how to help.”

There was a long pause, presumably while Heero listened to the person on the other end of the line.  “I know.  I know, Trowa.”  _Barton.  Zero Three_ , Wufei’s brain supplied in response to hearing the name.  “But he doesn’t remember.  He doesn’t remember the accident...or what I did to put him there.”

 _You were injured in the field_.  The words from the front of his notebook echoed in Wufei’s brain, ringing of truth.  What was Heero talking about?  What did he do? 

But then the other man was talking again, his voice failing.  “Every day he wakes up and rediscovers he has this condition.  Every single day.  And every day I know that I could have stopped it and I didn’t.”

Pulling his notebook out of the satchel that hung from his shoulder, Wufei hastily jotted down a reminder – _Heero feels guilty about what happened to you.  Ask him why._ – before snapping the book shut and shoving it back in the bag.  Reaching out to the door to the doctor’s office beside him, he opened it and then closed it again, this time with more force.  The sound reverberated down the hall to Heero who turned to face him at last.  As Wufei walked toward him, he heard Heero wrapping up his conversation on the other end of the line.

Heero stashed his phone as Wufei came up beside him.  He pulled a small smile onto his face, deftly hiding the tension that had been there moments before, and he asked, “How did the appointment with Dr. Hsieh go?”

“Fine,” Wufei said.  “I like her.”

Heero’s smile faltered, though Wufei couldn’t be sure why.  He covered it quickly enough, however, asking, “So we’ll see her again?”

This sounded like a decent enough idea to Wufei.  “Sure.” 

The evening passed in much the same way the morning did – hazy recollections of tasks his phone had alerted him about, occasional scribblings in the ledger when something struck him as worth remembering later.  He reflected at one point that he’d gathered quite the eclectic menagerie on the crisp pages, the black ink smudging in his haste to get words down before the thoughts evaporated entirely.  His fingers were stained with it. 

The light gradually faded from the open balcony window as the evening wore on.  Evening found him studying the notebook’s entries from the day while Heero sat beside him on the couch, flipping through messages on his phone.  With the ever-helpful alert from Wufei’s phone, the two of them called it a night.  Wufei went to get ready for bed while Heero moved about the apartment dousing the lights save for the one sitting lit by Wufei’s side of the bed.  

Once the rest of the apartment was shrouded in darkness, Heero joined Wufei in bed, curling himself against the length of his body.  Wufei allowed himself a momentary respite, drawing strength from the other man’s presence, before asking, “I’m going to forget all of this tomorrow, won’t I?”

The question was rhetorical, but Heero answered him anyway.  “Yes,” Heero said, “but…it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.  It infuriates me.  I can only imagine how frustrating it is for you too.  Why do you put up with it?” Wufei countered, pushing himself up and away from the other man so that he knelt on the bed facing him.  Heero likewise sat upright, and Wufei watched the emotions roiling behind those blue eyes.  “You feel responsible,” Wufei assessed. 

Fear.  Doubt.  “What—”

“I overheard you talking to someone today, one of the others.  I didn’t write down who,” Wufei answered, raising the black notebook off of its resting place on the end table and shaking it for emphasis.  “I did, however, write down a reminder to confront you about it.”  Setting the ledger aside, he turned back to his partner to find Heero’s strength flagging, his resolve crumbling.  “Why?  Why do you think that?”

“Because I’m the one that told you to go in,” Heero said, his voice breaking as the words tumbled from his lips.  “I was your Oracle.  I was supposed to see the things you couldn’t and protect you from them.  You and the others on the ground.  And I didn’t.  I couldn’t see it coming.”  At last, his voice failed him completely, and Heero buried his face in his hands.

Wufei felt his heart clench at the sight.  Drawing closer, he pulled Heero into his arms and held him.  “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“It’s not your fault.  I love you.  It’s not your fault.”  He repeated the mantra over and over again until Heero calmed and then stilled against him, slipping into a deep sleep.  Wufei repositioned the man so he lay beside him and reached for the notebook.  First, he struck out the reminder he’d left himself and then jotted a quick ‘completed’ next to it before writing his final entry of the day.

_Heero loves you more than you’ll consciously know.  Let him.  Love him back.  Be gentle.  He’s hurting too.  It’s okay – you talked about it.  You won’t need to bring it up again._

+++++

On a bright September morning, Wufei stood over the stove making breakfast.  He’d taken a scrap of paper from his nearly-full notebook and jotted down what he was doing and why.  When he heard Heero approach from behind, he proactively offered up, “It’s our anniversary today,” by way of explanation.

“You remember that?”

Wufei snorted at the shocked question that came from the man behind him.  As Heero closed the distance and ducked his head to rest his chin on his shoulder, Wufei pulled his phone from his pocket and waved it back and forth.  “Recurring reminder is set indefinitely.  Apparently one of us was fairly confident that I liked you a lot.”  He chanced a glance at the other man, and found him…content.  “What?” Wufei prompted.

“I didn’t set that alarm,” Heero told him.

“I was the confident one, then.”

“Or the presumptuous one,” Heero corrected, laughter in his voice.  He leaned in and gave Wufei a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

The gesture was a welcome one and it gave Wufei confidence to ask about the other thing that was on his mind.  “I have another alert on my phone,” he began.  “‘Go see Sally.’  Know anything about that?  Because clearly I do not, but that’s not exactly unusual, so…”

Heero pulled away so that the two of them could look one another in the eyes.  Wufei loathed the added space.  “She wanted to see how you were doing six months on, after we…adjusted.  She was serious when she said that she wanted you back.”

“There’s _no way_ that I could—”

“Not in the field,” Heero corrected, trying to allay Wufei’s concern.  “Something else.”

Wufei considered this.  The uncertainty of it all made his stomach turn.  “Like what?”

Heero shrugged and offered an encouraging smile.  “Not sure.  Guess we’ll have to ask her.”

When they arrived at the Preventers branch office later that morning, Wufei was relieved to find Sally waiting in the lobby for them.  With her in tow, they would be able to avoid any awkward re-acquaintance-making – he wasn’t sure his nerves could handle it at the moment.  They rode the elevator up several floors, stepping out into the hubbub of the branch office.  Wufei kept his eyes glued on Sally’s back as he followed her back to her office, hoping to avoid eye contact with people he knew but couldn’t remember.

Once the door was shut behind them, she passed him a piece of paper.  “What do you think?”

“I don’t—”

“Humor me,” she told him, gesturing to the two guest chairs while she walked around her desk to sit down.

Wufei took a seat and briefly scanned the facts and figures.  A network of growing allegiances built itself in his head.  Names, faces, finances...threads of a spider web that had begun to span the continent.  He rattled off his assessment and indicated the weak links in the network, possible supply routes, and how to catch the perpetrators.  Sally nodded absorbing this information, her face unreadable, and held her hand out for the paper when he was done.  He passed it over and asked her, “But I’m not entirely sure what that was meant to prove.”

“Only that you have a good head on your shoulders,” she told him, setting the paper down on the desk near her hand.  “I think we could make use of it – and you – working with our analysts.”

Wufei quietly considered this.  Brains rather than bullets, it seemed.  It wasn’t a bad idea, objectively speaking.  Although he could hardly remember the trappings of the day long enough to grow bored of them, the loss of purpose was a heavy burden to bear with every waking moment.  “I can’t read long reports.  I can’t remember all the details.”

“You won’t need to,” Sally assured, then laughed bitterly.  “Lord knows I’ve been trying to get them to tighten their shit for years.  Now they’d be obligated.”

“Is…” His voice failed him.  Clearing his throat, he tried again.  “Is part-time an option?”  Raising his eyes to meet Sally’s, he continued, “Sometimes it’s fine.  Sometimes…it’s exhausting.  Reminding yourself about everything for the entire day.”

Sally offered him a reassuring smile.  “I’m sure that can be arranged.  If I can even count on you to do it for even a few hours, I’d count myself lucky.”

“Do what?”

Sally shot the briefest of looks at Heero before lifting a single piece of paper from her desk and holding it out to him.  “Humor me,” she said.  “What do you think?”

Wufei took the offered sheet and quickly skimmed through the facts and figures that were presented.  A budding alliance network grew out of the shadows of his mind.  The names, faces, money that belonged to a growing, interconnected web of extremist groups were as clear as day to him.  He told Sally as much, pointing out where the weak links were and how to put a stop to their operations before they could spread further.  “But why are you asking?”

Sally grinned.  “I’m proving a point, with a witness present,” she added nodding her head towards Heero, who sat quietly.  “I’ve handed that to you twice while we’ve been sitting here and you’ve given me the same assessment.  You’re correct, by the way – we caught them just as you suggested we would.  The raid was executed about a week ago.”

Wufei felt his stomach drop at the comment and turned his eyes on Heero, fearing he’d see some embarrassment at the clear impairment.  Instead, Heero’s eyes spoke only of confidence while the corners of his lips had started to turn upward in the hints of a budding smile.  “I don’t remember…”

“I know,” Sally acknowledged, drawing Wufei’s attention back to her.  “We’ll have to work out a system, just as you and Heero have done over these last few months.  But you’re still you, Wufei.  And we need your help.  You’re a phenomenal agent, and I want you back in the office working for me.”

They parted amicably with the Branch Chief with promises to return the following morning for reprocessing with HR.  Sally saw them to the door of her office but stopped at the threshold and drew Wufei into a tight hug.  “I’m glad to have you back,” she told him.  “It’s not been the same without you.”

He returned the embrace for a moment, wishing he could hold onto the memory of her affection for a little while longer than he knew was possible.  Too soon, the two of them separated, professionalism restored.  Around the corner and out of sight, someone shouted for the Chief.  Sally sighed.  “Work’s never done,” she confessed, and disappeared around the corner.

Left to their own devices, Wufei pointed down the hall to the left.  “The elevators…they’re this way,” Wufei said, but then hesitated.  To Heero he asked, “Correct?”

Heero nodded and fell into step with him. “Today was a good day,” he murmured as he walked beside him down the hall.

“And I’m going to forget it all…” Wufei mused.  From the corner of his eye, he saw Heero wince and so changed tacks.  “But I’ve been _burning_ through pages in the notebook, so maybe some of it will stick this time.”

“Even if it doesn’t, we’ll start again tomorrow,” Heero told him.  To Wufei’s surprise, the other man reached out and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. 

Surrounded but untouched by the bustling of the branch office around them, their walk to the elevator bank was silent.  It felt to Wufei like something had fallen into place, something that he’d been missing without realizing it.  He let himself enjoy the moment of shared, comfortable silence until Heero drew up short.  Wufei turned back to ask about the delay and found the other man studying an announcements board.

“We should think about this one next year,” Heero said, tapping a flyer posted on the wall. 

Wufei glanced at him and then took a step closer to read the bill.  “A marathon?”

“Or the half,” Heero added with a shrug.  “Either one.  I’d like to do it, but I’d only want to do it with you – it would give us both something to prepare for over the next year.”

 _Set goals.  Then set reminders._ The words bounced across Wufei’s mind like stones skipping across a lake surface.  He didn’t know where they came from.  “You asked me this before,” Wufei muttered.  Releasing Heero’s hand, he dug through his satchel and produced his notebook from its depths.  He then flipped through the pages, pausing on the few that had been weighted down with paperclips.  _Found it._ “July 31st Wufei said ‘no’ to this idea, and warns future-Wufei to do the same.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not.  See, right here,” Wufei said, turning the book around so that the other man could read the pages.  He tapped his finger at the entry in question: _Heero will ask you to do the Preventers Marathon with him.  Do not accept._

“I can’t believe you wrote that down,” Heero said, sounding shocked but nonetheless amused.

“Clearly I suspected – correctly – that you would try again,” admonished him, withdrawing the book and snapping it shut before more of his internal musings could be seen. 

Heero laughed.  “Fine.  So July Wufei said ‘no.’  What does today’s Wufei say?”

This gave Wufei pause.  He looked back at the flyer and memorized the contours of it.  Next year.  “You would be there…?” he murmured, unsure.

“I’d never leave your side.”

Wufei considered this.  He chanced another glance at Heero and found him hopeful.  “Alright,” he acquiesced. 

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Wufei told him, fighting the laugh that threatened to spill from his lips at Heero’s surprise.  “Though I don’t know how on earth we’ll complete it – I was never much of a long-distance runner.”

“That’s simple – you’ll forget every twenty minutes or so how long we’ve been running.  So I’ll just tell you that we’ve been running for twenty minutes.  Put that ‘mind over matter’ concept to the test.”

Wufei laughed freely at this.  He felt as if something inside him had finally sprung free after being held captive for too long.  Opening his notebook, he scrawled quickly, _Heero asked about the marathon again.  You agreed.  Sally has hired you back part-time as an analyst.  Time to set new alarms._


	4. Epilogue

Wufei stood amidst a crowd, gasping for breath in between long pulls from the water bottle in his hand.  The muscles in his legs were on fire. 

He gathered he had passed the finish line, judging from the proximity of likewise fatigued individuals on this side of an arch that spanned the street.  In his left hand was clutched a medal – presumably for completion – though he didn’t recall who handed it to him.  Beside him, Heero was doubled over, kneading the tense calf muscle in his right leg.  A similar medal hung around his neck. 

The sky was bright but the sun had not yet crested the buildings that towered over them on either side.  There was a crispness in the air that told him the day was still young and full of promise. “Well, that wasn’t too bad,” Wufei told him. 

From Heero, a hearty laugh.


End file.
